Death is Only a Horizon
by SwedishMuse
Summary: Post-Apocalyptic Human AU: In the aftermath of global war, Berwald is a wanderer who goes without human contact for years. When he stumbled upon a strange settlement trying to rebuild society, he will find that humanity may have evolved to fit their new world. (Rated for violence, adult content, abuse, and mental illness). Main pairing is [Denmark x Sweden].
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** So the forecast, as always, is slow updates. But I'm really excited to write this one. I don't think it will be so long, but this is my first post-apocalyptic story. The pairings will be a mess, but they will likely include: Sweden x Denmark, Sweden x Finland, Denmark x Norway.

As far as **Warnings** go: Graphic depictions of violence, adult content, abuse, mental illness, and (possible) character deaths are likely to occur. But then again, that's why we're here, isn't it?

* * *

Berwald walked alone through the deserted rubble that hardly resembled the glittering city it had once been. Pale, ominous sunlight shone dimly through a thick layer of brown smog that had become a constant cloud over the desolate world in which he now lived.

The memories had all been so clear once, but now, he could hardly believe he had ever seen blue sky, let alone the clean, bright faces of other people. He had been alone for so long now, hadn't seen anyone nor spoken to anyone in years.

Had it already been so long?

Perhaps. He couldn't really remember. Time had become a strange thing anymore, weeks and months were nearly nonexistent, it all just seemed like a single, unending day. Or perhaps he was finally starting to lose his mind.

His memories had begun to feel like they had happened in another life time. Once he had lived in a time of plenty and security, and then the wars came. So much time had passed, and many of the details were either forgotten or had never been known to him, though it was getting harder to tell the difference. However, he clearly remembered that things had started slowly, and then all at once, everyone seemed to be at war with each other. He thought he might have been a soldier in the war, but even then, he had no real memory of who taught him to use his gun. All he knew was that when the bombs started going off, chaos took control of everything. The borders of nations fell along with their governments, entire armies went AWOL, civilians were targeted, and for a short time the world witnessed the true evils that man could commit.

He couldn't quite remember when the first of the creatures appeared, but after that, any hope he had ever held about the world returning to normal was lost forever. An infection spread from things that were mutated by the blasts and radiation of the bombs. Some said that those who had died now walked the earth in a manifestation of the sins of the world, some said that the creatures had never been human at all, but Berwald had seen some that resembled people. Maybe even friends.

They attacked anything organic, and devoured everything in their path. So many people died so quickly. Berwald wasn't sure how he survived, but there had been many days since when he wished he had died along with all the others. He wasn't sure why he kept going. Curiosity, perhaps.

He had been walking for years. Just walking from city to city. Or, what was left of cities, anyway. He didn't remember their names. Hadn't seen a map in years. He just kept going because it wasn't safe to stop anywhere. Those things would find him by his scent if he hid out anywhere for too long. They were good at that. Not to mention real food was hard come by. He ate whatever he could find. A place to sleep was harder. Sometimes he went days without getting more than a few hours of rest per night. It could be so quiet sometimes. He wasn't even sure he _had_ a voice anymore.

Wouldn't have had anything to say, anyway. No one to talk to.

Who was the last person he talked to?

He couldn't remember. He honestly couldn't remember if he had ever talked to anyone. Been alone for so long. The loneliness was far more wretched in the cities; across desolate land he could pretend this was the way things had always been, that he had never known another way. Another person.

Through each city he tried not to hope, but each time he left the broken buildings and shattered glass of car windows behind, he could feel that hope die a little more. For all he knew, he was the last man on earth.

But maybe it was that hope that kept him going. The hope of seeing another like him. All he ever seemed to find were the twisted, demonic faces of the creatures that would come for him in the night, though.

* * *

Berwald awoke quickly, having only been resting lightly. Deep sleep would get him killed.

He clutched his gun to his chest, aware that it was a sound that had disturbed him. His ears strained hard, eyes wide behind the smudged frames of his glasses, trying to catch the faintest sound. He stayed like that, his body still and rigid as stone. The sun was up by now, but there wouldn't be light until later. The clouds were too thick.

He waited.

It was a game that he had played before, but one that never lost its edge. He didn't dare move.

 _Tension._

An empty wind swirled across the desolate crags and pieces of cement he was sheltered beneath, their rebar bones broken and exposed. Nothing stirred. Nothing moved.

…Was he truly alone? Was his mind just playing tricks on him now?

He was unable to shake the mental image of something crouching just beyond the entrance to his small shelter, waiting for him to let his guard down. Forsaking all thoughts of returning to sleep, he held his gun tightly to his chest, and crawled forward.

His old, black boots had long lost their tread, but were now able to carry him silently as he crept over to the entrance, which was formed by the remains of a wall and what was now a collapsed roof. He adjusted his gun in his hands, his finger resting lightly on the trigger. He was running out of ammunition. Couldn't shoot until he absolutely had to.

Another gust of wind swept through, and he felt the dry air lightly brush the back of his neck and his forehead, bringing to attention the fact he was sweating with apprehension. His hands felt clammy now. He swallowed silently.

When he reached the entrance, he pressed his back to the side that had once been a wall, and peered out.

Nothing.

Just an empty area that had once been a main road. The asphalt was cracked and uneven now, and most of the buildings around had long been reduced to rubble. No one was there.

He stayed by the wall for a minute longer, breathing a little easier, but with his hands still frozen to his weapon.

Then, he heard something that made every hair stand on end.

A long, metallic scraping sound. It was so loud, he nearly dropped his gun to cover his ears.

When it stopped, there was a stillness that was eerie even in an abandoned city. Then, another sound shattered the newly-formed quiet.

"Hey- _o!_ "

It had been so long since he had heard another voice he almost didn't recognize what it was. Three more metallic bangs rang out in rhythm. It sounded like someone was hitting a metal pipe on something not far from him.

"Anybody out there?"

After recovering from a moment of paralyzing shock, Berwald began to consider walking out of his shelter and into the street so the other person could see him, but something held him back. After all, it couldn't be assumed that this person was friendly, or alone. Slow memories began to surface. He felt like this was almost familiar. But why?

Before he had really decided what he was going to do, Berwald heard a different person cry out. It was a woman. She screamed for help, and then he could hear the loud patting of feet as she ran towards the voice who had cried out. He hadn't thought there was anyone else here. He would have just left without seeing anyone again and presumed he was still alone. It was an eerie thought to think that people hiding in these broken remains of cities just watched him walk through without making themselves known.

There were more voices then, and Berwald risked leaning just a little farther to see what was happening.

A group of men stood in the center of the road. They were rough looking, wearing all black with bandanas wrapped around their heads and faces, leaving only their eyes open, which were all covered by black sunglasses. Berwald briefly wondered if he had ever seen them before, but then decided that he was simply reminded of a biker gang from the old days. They were armed to the teeth, though. Guns and belts of ammunition served as their form of accessories, and several of them had long machetes hanging from their belts.

The woman who had run to them then collapsed at the feet of the one who held a long metal pipe. She was gasping and crying, begging for something Berwald couldn't hear, but guessed was simply for help. The men roughly pulled her up and she was practically tossed from person to person while their presumed leader thought quietly. Then, he gave a few short orders, and the woman shrieked.

Berwald bowed his head. He was remembering now.

This group was one of the few organized gangs that had appeared during the wars. They were a group that considered themselves to be the instruments of chaos, and believed that their purpose was to fight the creatures that had been appearing, using whatever means necessary. In a world where everything was broken and lost, Berwald supposed that joining up with something like that would give you your sense of purpose back, regardless of the cost.

When he looked back up, he saw that they had bound the woman with thick ropes and set her in the center of what had once been an intersection. Even from a distance Berwald could see she was bleeding now. She should have known better than to have gone to them seeking help.

The man who Berwald assumed was their leader swung his pipe again and it rung loudly when it made contact with the asphalt beside the woman. Her scream followed the noise.

"Here, you little fucks!" he shouted like he was calling for a dog. "Come and get it!"

A silence fell over the remains of the city once more, but it wasn't as complete as before. The woman was sobbing with her head bowed. Berwald felt a pain deep in his chest. He found himself wanting to help, even though he didn't know who the woman was. It seemed that the true evil in people came out in times of crisis.

"Maybe this place is clean," someone suggested.

The leader lifted up his sunglasses and squinted, turning to stare down each of the four streets around them. Berwald quickly pulled away from the entrance, crouching back down in the shadows. He held his breath.

Suddenly three or four black smudge shot across the entrance to his shelter, eclipsing him momentarily. They were already gone before he could blink, but he grasped his gun tighter anyway.

"There!" someone else shouted, obviously having seen the creatures running towards them.

There was a series of gunshots and a few sickening gurgling sounds, then everything fell silent again.

Berwald swallowed hard, feeling like his hands would be shaking if he hadn't been clutching his weapon so tightly.

A few more metallic noises rang out in rhythm, the man shouted a few more times, but when nothing else happened, he finally seemed satisfied.

"Alright, let's get out of here."

There was some commotion, and then Berwald heard a few engines grumble to life. He realized that it must have been the sound of their various vehicles that had woken him up. It had been a long time since he had heard anything that loud.

"Wait!" the woman screamed, sounding like she was on the verge of hysteria. "Please, take me with you!"

Somehow, even with the loud sound of the engines rolling over the empty city, there was still a sense of silent tension.

She was sobbing again now, repeating over and over that she would do anything if they just didn't leave her behind. Someone might have mumbled something, or it might have just been the sound of the engines, but a single gunshot was the only answer she received.

"Let's ride!" he cried out, but it sounded more like a snarl.

A few of the other men whooped and cheered, and then Berwald panicked when he heard the engines beginning to move in his direction. He quickly lied down, throwing his dark hood over his light hair, and nearly pressed his face into the dirt.

He hardly dared to breathe as the deafening sound of military-style jeeps, armored cars, and a few motorcycles passed just in front of him. The adrenaline that was endlessly cycling through his veins kept his muscles frozen in place, but the terrifying image of someone happening to spot him robbed him of any other immediate thoughts.

Stay down. Stay still.

Though it seemed to take ages, the group left rather quickly. Berwald still wasn't willing to get up until the roaring sound was almost completely gone, but when it was silent again, he grabbed his pack, and peeked outside into the broken city once again. The vehicles were nothing now but a large dust cloud in the distance. He glanced around once more to make sure it was safe, and then he crawled out of the small sheltered den and walked onto the street. The woman who had been shot was lying on the road, a small bloody puddle surrounding what was left of her head. He looked away and shut his eyes for a moment.

If he had been a religious man, perhaps he would have prayed. But, he wasn't, and it would seem no god had ever heard them anyway. Not with the hell that had the world had become.

The sun was sinking in the sky though, and so he turned his back on the city and began following the road the gang had taken. With any luck, they would never cross paths again. Luck didn't exactly seem to be his strong suit, though.

* * *

Berwald walked over the barren land alone, the scorching sun somehow still able to burn through the toxic clouds above. The days were hotter now, and the nights were freezing. It didn't seem like it used to be that was, but he couldn't really remember a night where he had been able to sleep without his boots on. If there was a brighter side, it would be that he hadn't come across any creatures in a while. Cities were more dangerous, but out in open land seemed to be fairly safe. Maybe that gang was doing a better job of exterminating those things than he had thought.

He made a face at his boots as he trudged over the hard, burnt ground. They were wearing really thin. He would have to keep an eye out for new ones. Things like that were becoming harder to find anymore though. The destruction wasn't so fresh anymore. Most buildings that were still standing were empty and nearing collapse. He needed to try to find food, too.

Hot, dry wind swept through the empty land. Berwald wrapped a cloth around his face so he wouldn't breathe in so much dust. His glasses helped to keep it out of his eyes, but only a little.

Then, rising up in the distance, he saw something. More buildings, but they looked strange. He squinted harder, trying to discern it from the watery mirages that were also crowding his vision. However, unlike the imaginary pools of water, the closer he got to the structures, the better he was able to see them.

The whole area was fenced in by a strange metal wall that sort of resembled the hulls of massive war ships. Over the wall he could see the tops of a few buildings, and then a taller structure that looked like it had once been a factory of some sort.

A new settlement, perhaps?

Usually he only found the fresh wreckage of these places. If the monsters didn't get to them, the gangs would.

He briefly thought about changing his course so that he would avoid the area, but, with a grunt at the lightness of his pack, he knew he couldn't go much farther without finding more food and water. A settlement was likely to have those things, and he figured he could trade for what he needed, given the assumption that the people within were not hostile to lone outsiders.

As he drew closer, the sun set behind him, setting a bright, blinding fire to the metallic walls of the settlement. He bowed his head a little as he walked closer to the part he assumed was an entrance. It wasn't a gate, which was what he had thought it looked like before, but rather a tunnel, fairly low, almost low enough that it would force him to duck. He reached the entrance without seeing anyone and paused, peering in to the darkness.

The area was silent. The wind pushed passed him, and he watched small eddies of sand swirl into the darkness before him. He thought about calling out, but then simply began to walk forward.

He was stopped short by the sound of guns cocking.

"Hold."

Berwald froze as the voice that had suddenly materialized behind him commanded.

"Put your weapon on the ground, and turn around slowly with your hands up."

His heart was beginning to hammer in his chest, but he bent down and set his gun on the compacted dirt before rising back up to his full height with his arms raised. Then, he slowly turned around.

There were two gunmen now blocking the entrance to the low tunnel. Both of them had helmets and tinted goggles over their eyes, as well as cloth masks over their mouths and noses. They were trained on him, and looked extremely wary, but didn't back up when he turned all the way around to face them.

"What's your business here?" the one on the right asked sharply.

Berwald had to swallow before speaking. "Just passing through, looking to trade,"

His own voice sounded foreign to him, but the man hesitated before he reached up and moved his goggles, setting them on his forehead and peering at him while his rifle was still pointed at him. He had a unique shade of green eyes and blond, choppy hair. His mouth was set into an automatic frown and his face was hard set. Mostly though, Berwald thought he looked young.

"No one passes through here except the gangs," he said, his eyes narrowing further.

Berwald kept his hands held up on either side of his head, choosing his words carefully. "Ain't part of any gang. Just passin' through."

The man didn't seem convinced and nodded to the pistol at Berwald's side.

"What's with all the guns, then?"

He made a face. The man before him was carrying many more weapons than he was. He was only carrying two guns, after all: an old Swedish assault rifle, and his 9mm, an even older handgun.

"Same reason as you." He huffed.

That was apparently the wrong answer.

"We don't need any more trouble here than we've already got," he said and raised his gun higher.

"I'm not here to cause trouble," he said as quickly as he could, but he was considering how suicidal it would actually be to try to shoot both of them in order to get away.

"Well what if I said I didn't believe you?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing together.

He was beginning to realize that coming here had been a mistake.

"Well, then, I guess we've got a problem." he muttered lowly.

"I guess we do." He agreed and closed one eye as he began to aim.

Berwald waited for a terrifying second, and then his entire body sprang into action. He jerked, feigning right, and then leapt forward and managed to rip the gun right out of the hands of the man on the left after he had fired to the right and missed him. The blond on the right turned quickly and fired, nearly shooting his comrade instead of Berwald.

It was a miracle he missed, but Berwald didn't intend to test his luck. Using the stolen rifle, the struck the man on the left in the face hard with the butt, and when they fell back, he pulled it to his shoulder and fired without taking time to aim.

The blond dropped his gun with a strangled cry, doubling over. At first, Berwald had assumed the man had taken the bullet to his stomach, but then he looked down and realized he had shot his hand, and had severed one of his gloved fingers. Blood dripped to the ground, and while Berwald was distracted by the strange screams of pain coming from the first gunman, the second got up and hit him over the head with something hard and metallic.

Berwald saw stars before the ground rose up to meet him, and it took him several seconds to realize that he was just lying on the ground while the second gunman took his rifle back, and aimed it at his head.

"Wait!"

A loud voice echoed down the hall, and everything seemed to freeze.

The sound of footsteps drawing closer was barely audible over the ringing in his ears, but he was aware that someone new was approaching.

"What's going on?"

"He shot my goddamned finger off!" the blond gunman shrieked.

The new figure made a noise that might have sounded like 'ew', but then he shouted behind him and Berwald pushed himself to his side a bit so he could see what was going on. More gunmen appeared and two of them began to take the blond away while one came a bit closer and fetched the severed finger.

Then the man walked closer to Berwald. From the ground he could see his wildly blond hair and dark eyebrows, but not much else. He wasn't looking at him though; he was now facing the gunman who had hit Berwald over the head.

"What happened?" he asked.

The gunman pulled of their hat and goggles and long, brown hair fell down their back. Only then did Berwald realize that she was a woman.

"This guy came alone. He says he's not with any gangs." She shrugged simply.

"…And then?" he prompted.

"Vash was going to shoot him, then he was going to shoot Vash, so I hit him with my frying pan." She said matter-of-factly.

A frying pan? That was what she'd hit him with? What the hell kind of place was this?

The tall man chuckled and then bent down, bringing himself into Berwald's range of vision fully.

"Hey there! Sorry about all that. Are you alright?" he asked, speaking loudly and slowly, as if to check to see if he had brain damage.

Berwald groaned a little bit, but pushed himself up so they were looking at each other more evenly.

"I think so," his head still throbbed, but he was still wary of these people.

The woman was standing beside them, her gun once again trained on him.

She was pretty; she had vivid, grass green eyes. Didn't see colors like that anymore. However, he did notice a large frying pan hanging from her belt like a sword, and made a face.

"Why don't you come inside? The sun won't be up much longer." He urged and offered his hand out to him. "I'm Mathias, by the way. I'm in charge around here."

Though this man was apparently far more trusting than the two guardsmen, he didn't want to return the trust overeagerly. He didn't know these people, didn't know what they did to survive in this world. Sometimes finding out wasn't worth it.

Even so, he stared at his hand for a moment, not in distrust, but in effort to remember his own fucking name.

"Er, Berwald," he finally answered, shaking his hand.

The man looked to be around the same age as him, and had a wide, charming grin. His face was scarred, but good bone structure gave him a handsome complexion regardless.

As they both got to their feet, he noticed Mathias gesture at the woman to lower her gun. "You can end your shift early tonight, Elizabeta. Have someone take over and go get some rest."

She saluted before turning around and heading back outside. Berwald figured there must have been a hidden entrance along the wall for people keeping guard to look out of. He hadn't seen any from the outside, though.

Mathias led him deeper into the tunnel, which forked off into three separate directions. He led him to the far right, and Berwald followed him after retrieving his gun.

"Hey, really, sorry about all of that. Vash is in charge of the security here, but, he's a little...high strung." Mathias said, waving a hand and glancing back at him.

"No kiddin'," he mumbled, but hooked his gun over his back.

He didn't feel at ease, he just didn't want to be mistaken for a threat again.

Mathias just laughed, and Berwald watched the way his long hair moved. Did he have product in it…?

They walked a bit farther until they reached a gate, and as they drew closer it opened for them. Inside the surprisingly thick walls there was a small settlement. It looked to have been set up in the ruins of what had once been an old mining and refining complex. The foundations were all that was left of some of the buildings, but new ones had been set up, made out of clay, crude cement, and pieces scrapped from various other constructions.

There were people there, too. Tons of them.

Berwald hadn't seen so many people together in what felt like ages. Not even the gangs kept this many people. Many of them turned to look at them as the heavy gate was lowered behind them, and it caused Berwald to look down at his boots instead of looking around at the small settlement. He had always been shy, even before he had been alone for so long. Lots of people looking at him made him feel self-conscious, which usually caused him to do embarrassing things in a self-fulfilling-prophesy sort of way.

Only too late did he realize that Mathias had been talking to him since they entered. By the time he tuned in, he only caught the end of what he assumed was a complete, unabridged history of their little township.

"But anyway, you're more than welcome to trade and head out, but if you want to stay we're always more than happy to accept new members," Mathias grinned like he was trying to get him to join a club.

He nodded in thanks, but remained silent.

Mathias looked like he was about to just turn around and leave him there alone in the center of the buildings, stalls, and people, but the he noticed his gun slung over his back.

"Hey, is that an Ak 5?" he asked, gesturing to it.

Berwald pulled it back into his arms, and held it forward a bit, pleasantly surprise. "Yeah, it is,"

He took a closer look, and then flashed a grin as he tapped on the wide trigger guard. "Swedish mod, right?"

"Yeah," he smiled a little at his keen eye. "Bofors Carl Gustaf."

"Oh, right, right," he grinned and then looked up at him. "May I?"

He hesitated before removing the strap from his shoulders and letting Mathias hold it to examine it further. "Sure,"

The man was shorter, but not by much, and swung the weapon easy in his arms, fitting it to his shoulder and looking down the sight before he flipped it back and forth in his hands, looking at both sides.

"Yeah, I remember seeing some of these. God, that was such a long time ago. I was stationed in Sweden for a while, you know, before things really started going to shit. I was born in Denmark, so I was one of the only guys in my squad who could talk to the Swedes there. Not really fluently, of course, but, good enough to get us by without getting shot." He laughed before handing it back politely. "It's a good gun. Tough, that's for sure."

Berwald couldn't help but smile a little at him as he nodded and accepted his gun back. This guy was somehow charming and annoying at the same time.

"You're Danish?" he asked, gently nudging the conversation.

It had been far longer since he had met anyone else who was born so far north.

"Yep! To the bone!" he laughed and pulled up his sleeve, revealing a faded tattoo of the Danish flag on his arm. "Born in Copenhagen, even. Are you Swedish, then?"

Berwald nodded.

"Yeah, served there for a long time, before…" how did Mathias so eloquently put it? "Things really went to shit."

He laughed loudly, nearly making Berwald flinch.

"Hey, you know what, why don't you come be my guest for the night? You can trade up here for a bit, and when you're done, just head over to that place there." he smiled warmly and gestured at the tall building to the far east of the complex. "We can chat some more and I've got lots of extra sleeping space."

Berwald bowed his head quickly in thanks, eager to accept the offer before he was left alone in the center of this settlement without a plan. "Alright, thanks,"

Mathias grinned impossibly wider before he clapped him roughly on the shoulder. "Of course, it's nice to meet a fellow Scandinavian, even if you are a Swede,"

The Dane shot him a playful wink and Berwald huffed a little but smiled back. Then he waved daintily and turned around, heading off in a different direction and shouting to someone who hollered back in irritation.

Once he was gone, Berwald let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Mathias was comparable to a wind storm, he thought. Chaotic, loud, and full of energy, and when he was gone, it felt shaken and empty.

He shrugged his gun back onto his shoulder and looked around. There were little stalls set up for trading, but it was hard to tell what everyone was selling, exactly. Feeling a little more like a lost dog and a little less like he actually wanted to stay here, he slowly made his way down the roadway, searching for something he wasn't sure he would know until he saw it.

Just to be around people again put him on edge. Faces, voices, loud sounds and people paying attention to things other than their immediate survival. After having been alone so long, the adrenaline wouldn't quit. Wouldn't let him relax around people. He had gotten so used to the silence that now his ears were sensitive, and he flinched when things were tossed or when people called out loudly. There was just too much to be aware of all at once, and it made him uneasy to know that things might slip by without him seeing or hearing them.

He walked slowly, feeling like he wanted to run and hide if only to get away from the commotion. His only relief was that people seemed to only wish to look at him. No one approached him or instigated anything, allowing him and his frazzled mind to move along. At the same time, however, he felt like he was only able to accept all of this because he felt like he was walking in a dream. Half like he was really here, and half like he was asleep in the wastelands, starved and dehydrated.

Who really knew what reality was anymore, after all?

The thought did not make it easier to relax, and the longer he was alone, harder it was to remember why he had let that Dane talk him into staying instead of just trying to get some supplies and get out. That was what he did, after all. He wasn't here to try to fix things. Things were the way they were, and he was just passing through.

He decided he would try to get his bearings, that usually helped calm his sporadic heart. However, there didn't seem to be any way out except the way they came in. There were large buildings which left little room for roads that weren't already laid, but the high walls made it impossible to see beyond the settlement. For now, it would look as though he were trapped here for the night, whether he wanted to be anyone's guest or not.


	2. Chapter 2

Once he had traded for the items he felt were necessary, he pulled his pack close and began to make his way over to the large building to the far side of the complex. It was a huge building, although some of the areas looked to be collapsed, but upon entering he found that a pub-type area had been set up in the main area. He looked around for a bit, and then spotted Mathias leaning on the makeshift bar table, talking to the man standing behind it.

He briefly considered just leaving, but it was starting to darken, and the nights were unforgivingly cold. Mathias spotted him as the person behind the bar hurried away, and then grinned widely at him.

"Hey-ya Swede!" he cheered, patting the stool beside him.

Berwald nodded his head to him as he walked over and sat, setting his pack down by his feet, nearly feeling the urge to smile.

"You look like you could use a drink," he smiled at him, and then spoke loudly. "Hey! Tino! Two beers over here!"

Berwald's eyebrow twitched. He hadn't even _seen_ beer since before the end of the war.

"It's home brewed, so it's a little funny," Mathias cautioned as he leaned over the table to stare at him more directly. "But, it's not so bad once you get used to it."

While they waited on the only person who seemed to be working in the makeshift bar, they discussed growing crops in this awful climate and soil, but how successful they had been because of the mine that had once been here. Children were being born, though many older people had been sterilized due to radiation and other awful impacts of the war.

It was a strange thought…children being born who would never even know what the world had been like once before. They would never see a city, a glittering kingdom of steel and glass that their forefathers had built, and they would never see a forest, Berwald was starting to forget what they used to look like, even. No, they had less than nothing to leave for future generations.

Berwald had to take a moment to accept that.

"Sorry, here's your drinks," a soft, light voice suddenly spoke, pushing two old glasses in front of them, filled with a murky colored drink.

All of Berwald's attention was pulled away from his thoughts and lost on the mug when he looked at the one who had brought it.

He was younger, but not by too much. Still, so much more youth shone through his eyes. Bright with purity. It was almost too foreign to process. However, Berwald noticed that this eyes didn't look quite right. They were a strange sort of purple color, and the small, frail figure squinted while trying to cover it with a smile.

"Uh, hi, I don't think I know your name,"

Berwald was just staring at him like an idiot, but Mathias was quick enough to introduce them to each other.

"Tino, this is Berwald. He just got here." He smiled and clapped his shoulder again.

"Oh!" the shorter man said before adorably squinting harder. "Do you mind if I get closer? I can't see very well,"

He grunted softly, but his breath froze up a bit when he leaned in close enough for Berwald to be able to smell him. He smelt clean. It made the Swede self-conscious.

His eyes widened a bit when he appeared able to take in the details of his appearance, but still, he smiled when he withdrew. "Well, it's very good to meet you, but those other guys are waiting on their drinks. See you around!"

Berwald nodded and watched him scamper off quickly, almost as though he were a timid animal that had been spooked.

"Ah, don't worry about Tino. He's just shy," Mathias assured him.

"What's wrong with his eyes?" Berwald inquired, thinking that he had never seen eyes that color before.

The Dane shrugged before taking a pull of his foamy beer. "I think he was born with it. It was happening for a little while. Mothers drinking contaminated water or something like that. It's not so common now that we've found a couple good wells here."

Berwald nodded solemnly. To be so blind in such a terrifying world…he could understand why Tino was so jumpy.

"He's not blind, totally," Mathias explained. "There's these thick, like, ripples in his eyes that distort where things are. So he can see, but he has a hard time unless he's pretty close to things."

A slow memory surfaced, of people being blinded. Berwald hadn't seen anyone that had been effected, but they said that anyone who wasn't far enough away from the explosions in the south would go blind. If they didn't get ripped to shreds first, obviously.

Another blond appeared behind the bar and Mathias immediately perked up.

"Hey, Luke! Luke! Come meet the new guy!" he called excitedly, replacing his hand on Berwald's shoulder.

The touch was so familiar and so strange at the same time. Like a comrade; not someone he was with by choice, but someone he didn't really mind being stuck with. Whether or not he was actually stuck was another matter yet to be discussed, however. Berwald opted to ignore the hand and let the Dane do as he pleased for now.

The man finished fetching something out of a dented tin before he turned. He then handed the small foodthing to an unseen person below the counter. Berwald sat up a bit and spotted a small child, a toddler really, eagerly taking what appeared to be some kind of biscuit from the taller man's hand. This man was only slightly taller than Tino, but had a similar, slender build. His expression was uninterested and perhaps even slightly annoyed, but he approached them and examined Berwald with unnerving attention.

"This is Lukas," Mathias introduced him first. "He's from Norway. And that's Emil, his little brother."

He studied him for a moment before he spoke suddenly. "This the guy who shot off Vash's finger?"

Berwald's eyebrows jerked up in surprise.

"Yep," Mathias snickered. "Sharp-shooting son-of-a-bitch. He's an old Swede, ya know."

Lukas squinted at him judgingly and he held his gaze as best he could. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

They both just stared at each other until he looked down and saw that Berwald hadn't drank any of his beer yet, and then he nudged it towards him.

"Come on then, Swede. Drink to your welcome."

The man seemed to be extremely wary of him, but Mathias appeared to be completely attentive to what he said, so Berwald decided it would be best to comply. He firmly grasped the handle of the large cup, and then brought it to his lips. It smelled strange, but honestly, he couldn't even remember what real beer smelt like anymore.

He took in a confident drink, and then immediately choked on it and nearly spit it out.

Mathias laughed loudly, and to his credit, the Norwegian, Lukas, did smile. Berwald's tongue was still recoiling in his mouth though, almost burning with the extreme bitterness of the drink.

"Ugh," he coughed, replacing the heavy cup on the table. "What the hell _is_ that?"

They both just laughed a little more as Berwald wiped his mouth, rubbing his tongue on the roof of his mouth. Yuck.

Lukas then smiled and picked up the small child at his feet. The little boy looked at them shyly, and then curled up under Lukas' chin and held onto the collar of his shirt.

"I'm going to go give Emil a bath before bed," Lukas told Mathias, appearing to have accepted the Swede for the moment.

Mathias nodded and reached across the bar table, squeezing the toddler's little feet and shaking them, getting the little boy to squeal and kick with laughter. Berwald felt his heart warm at the simple innocence of it all.

They left and Mathias took another drink before turning back to Berwald. He made a face.

"How do you drink that?"

"You get used to it," he flashed a grin at him.

Berwald glanced back at his drink, and took it into his hands, but did little more than slide it around on the table for the next hour. They talked about the settlement, and they talked about the gangs. Berwald told him of the one he had seen ahead of him, and Mathias confirmed they had tried to pass through. Vash shot one of them, and they left.

Berwald felt a little guilty about his finger. Mathias warned him that Elizabeta wouldn't feel guilty at all for hitting him over the head.

When he asked what that was about, the Dane just shrugged and laughed.

"Hey, it's not crazy if it works."

Berwald shook his head, but he was enjoying their conversation.

It was so surreal, to suddenly be among people again. To speak with someone. To be touched. The Dane continually clapped his shoulder, grabbed his arm, and even threw an arm around his neck at one point. Berwald was too stiff to return any of the actions, but he couldn't help want to smile.

Friendly. That was the word. It had just been such a long time, he wasn't sure how to respond to something that wasn't trying to kill him for once.

At some point, Mathias yawned hugely, which caused Berwald to mirror.

The Dane grinned in sleepy amusement.

"Ya tired?"

Berwald didn't want to stop talking, but nodded. He was tired.

Mathias laughed and nodded, standing and urging him to follow. "Come on, I've got lots of places in here. You can come sleep up by me."

The Swede followed obediently, listening to Mathias ramble as they entered through a door off to the side and began to climb up some metal stairs.

"It's nicer up here, ya can't here so much going on below." He was telling him as they climbed.

The building indeed appeared to have once been some kind of mining operation, and was now the tallest building in the complex. They reached the upper levels and Mathias led them into a wide hallway with a few doors on either side.

"You can sleep here, if you want." He opened one of the doors for him. "I'll be on the floor above ya, if you need anything. Luke and Tino sleep up here too, so don't worry about it if you hear them come up later."

Berwald nodded and stepped into the room at Mathias' bidding. The Dane entered further and lit a candle to give him a little light. The room was small, but strangely cozy. It appeared to have once been some kind of office, but now it only contained a bed, a table with a large bowl on it, a towel beside that, and a nightstand by the bed where the candle stood.

He felt his shoulders relax for the first time in years. No windows to cover, no vents to worry about. Just a secure little room to sleep in. He hadn't been sure such a thing existed anymore. Mathias seemed to be eagerly waiting for feedback, so when Berwald sat down on the bed and then looked up at him in a mixture of gratitude and awe, he grinned widely.

"Thank you, Mathias," he said softly.

"'Course!" he laughed and smiled, sounding very pleased with himself as he walked towards the door.

Berwald felt the urge to roll his eyes and began to shrug off his jacket and tug his thick, long-sleeved shirt over his head. But Mathias paused in the doorway and turned back around.

The Swede suddenly felt a little exposed in his tight undershirt as those still-bright eyes blatantly traveled over his chest and exposed shoulders.

"You know," he said in a soft voice, something he hadn't even known the man capable of. "If you wanted, you really are more than welcome to stay here. We've got work you can do, but none of it is too hard. Everyone is really friendly here, and it's safe. We're really trying to rebuild, ya know? To try to start over, before all the old guys like us die off and there's no one that remembers how things were."

There was weight in his voice Berwald hadn't heard before, but it made a little more sense that he was in charge now. Heavy with responsibility, with a vision for the future.

"An' if you don't like it, you can always leave later. We won't force ya to do anything." Mathias shrugged, almost looking shy.

Berwald nodded to him, but didn't affirm or deny anything.

"Just, think on it, will ya?" he smiled a little more.

The Swede couldn't help but smile back, and nodded again. "I will."

"It'd be nice to have someone like you around," he perked back up, apparently satisfied, and winked at him as he looked over his body once more. "That's all I'm sayin'."

Berwald's ears grew hot and he grumbled, but the Dane finally left, shutting the door fully behind him. He listened to those heavy boots walk away down the hall, and then up the last flight of stairs before the blush fully faded. Again, feeling like a windstorm had just passed through the room, he took a moment to compose himself before Berwald got up the courage to tuck his things more purposefully under the bed.

A feeling of security flooded over him and he almost didn't know what to do with it. He sat back down on the bed and then pulled off his thin boots. He would have to look for some new ones tomorrow. As he kicked them off and set them together at the foot of his bed, he lied down and pulled the blankets over his body. It was strange.

Tonight, he would be able to sleep without his boots, without his long shirt, and probably even without his pants, though he couldn't quite bring himself to remove them. He was wrapped up under several blankets, lying above the cold ground on a warm mattress, and resting his head on a pillow. He had almost completely forgotten how wonderful it was to feel safe and warm and comfortable.

He eagerly pulled off his glasses, lying them on the nightstand before blowing out the candle and watching the room fade quickly to utter darkness. With that he lied back and shut his eyes. It was strange, to truly relax. To not fear that creatures would sniff him out in the night, nor worry that he would die of hypothermia in his sleep.

He hardly had any time to consider this, however, before he was completely unconscious.

* * *

When he awoke, he was in a state of panic. He couldn't remember where he was and he was blinded by the total darkness. As he tried to shift to see if he could spot any light, he realized he was on a bed, and the memories of the previous day came flooding back to him. Berwald fell back into the bed for a moment, contemplating reality.

He rested in the warm bed for a bit longer before he grabbed his glasses and redressed himself in the dark. He left his long shirt in his bag, and shrugged his jacket on, but didn't close it. He then gathered his things and walked to where he could see the outline of the door in white light. Berwald fumbled for the lock and then opened the door.

He was met with a high-pitched scream.

Berwald jerked back into the room with a cry of his own, nearly reaching for his gun before he realized he and Tino had scared each other by accident.

The shorter man was covering his mouth, giggling and gasping hysterically. "I'm…I'm so sorry, I didn't mean,"

Berwald held up his hand. "'S fine, didn't mean to scare you,"

They both shifted awkwardly, and then Tino smiled at him again. "Mathias wanted me to come get you for breakfast."

He smiled back and nodded, prepared to follow, but then the shorter man tilted his head towards his room.

"You can leave you stuff here, this is your room now. No one will mess with your things, Mathias will make sure of it." Tino grinned reassuringly. "Everyone is really nice here. We take care of each other."

Berwald hesitated. He hadn't separated himself from his weapon in years. It made him want to only cling to it tighter, but something about the soft, convincing tone in Tino's voice made him feel it would be a good idea to set his things down. To just walk around as he was, no weapons, no traveling gear. Like he intended to stay.

He grunted after a moment, leaving Tino at the doorway to set his things down on the bed before returning. The shorter man smiled sympathetically. Berwald wasn't sure how well he could see, but he obviously sensed how uncomfortable he now felt.

So, as they began back down towards the main area of the building, he tried to engage him in conversation. He was decidedly more difficult to talk with than the charismatic Dane, but he still smiled and urged him to speak. Berwald learned that he was a Finn, and informed him that Lukas had been born a Norwegian, and then gingerly added that Berwald thus completed the set.

Tino appeared to want him to stay, but Berwald wasn't certain why. New blood could always just be good in itself, maybe another strong laborer. The tall Swede wasn't as spry as he once was, but he was still completely muscle. A product of such a hard life. Tino spoke often of Mathias, almost as though he were urging Berwald to do something. He gave him things to ask him about, such as his collection of old guns that he kept in his room and some of the machines they worked, and so the Swede noticed that in the entire duration of their talk, Tino had said almost nothing about himself.

"How did you come to live here?"

"I came with Lukas and Emil. Mathias took us in and we all helped build this place. This is a really great place you know, everyone is really dedicated to taking care of each other. And Mathias keeps it all together, he really believes in recreating a society for more generations to grow up in."

"Oh."

They entered into the dining area, and spotted Mathias in the same place he had been last night. The Dane was leaned over the bar, speaking to someone and watching over the morning patrons. There were many people, men and women, and even a few children. No one appeared much older than Berwald and Mathias, but there were a few that seemed about their age. Everyone appeared to be eating before heading off to do some sort of work, and Berwald again suspected he was wanted for such labor.

Mathias saw Tino and him as they walked in and broke off his conversation to walk over to them. He smiled brightly, but then did something Berwald had not been expecting. He bent down and planted a light, intimate kiss on Tino's cheek. The small Finn blushed in front of Berwald, but beyond that didn't seem to bother with the kiss either way.

"I think they need some help in the kitchen," he said, and Tino nodded before moving around him to go behind the bar, calling when he entered the cooking area.

"So, how did you sleep?" Mathias asked him, a hand already resting on his shoulder, guiding him to sit beside him at the bar once more.

Berwald recovered as best he could, and then looked at him honestly. "I'd forgotten how nice it was to sleep in a bed,"

The man beside him grinned as if extremely pleased. "Well, I'm sure Tino told you already, but that room's yours if you want it,"

The offer was tempting, but he had to admit, he hadn't had time to give it much thought. He was so used to being alone, to wandering. Even before the war he hadn't had much to tie him anywhere. It was strange to think of this as a place he would wake up every morning.

Mathias seemed to be able to see the wheels turning in his head and was quick to postpone his deadline for a decision.

"Ah, but it's a lot to think about this early in the mornin', here, eat something first," he gestured as Tino reappeared with a couple of plates for each of them.

They ate and talked together, and eventually Mathias led him outside and took him on a tour of their complex.

He explained what each part of their community was for, and proudly displayed things like their greenhouse, fresh-water well, their various workplaces which included a small mine, several construction sites, storage buildings, something like a hospital, and so on. He talked endlessly as they went, occasionally pausing to speak to those around them.

The people were always immediately at attention when he called, which surprised Berwald. The man was charming, and he had heard the authority in his voice last night, but in his mind, they responded to him in a way solider might respond to a general of extremely high rank. Some even seemed almost nervous, updating him on their progress and quickly explaining any holdups as one might to a strict boss, despite how understanding and laid-back Mathias appeared to be about any situations.

They spent most of the day wandering and speaking about the site, and Mathias constantly questioned Berwald about his skills, abilities, and interests. He told him he had worked wood in his youth, and Mathias shook his head sadly.

"Most of that stuff just didn't survive. Almost everything we have to build with is metal or some crummy cement."

"Yeah, that's all that's left in the cities too," he grimaced.

Mathias perked back up and began to lead them through the market area of the city. "Well, that's why we do what we do. Tryin' to make up for some of what we lost. But hey, I noticed you were looking at boots the other day, why don't I help ya out?"

Before Berwald could even say anything, the man split off and went into a small hut-type stall, greeting the owner and exchanging a few quick words. The tall man wandered closer to the shop, but the owner had followed Mathias so he stood awkwardly outside, unsure and waiting. When that crazy blond hair reappeared, he was holding a pair of sturdy black boots in his hands.

"Here! Take a look at these!" he handed them to him excitedly.

He held them before he smiled. Exactly what he needed.

"What do I owe—"

"Nu-huh, no. They're a gift." He smiled and winked at him before patting his back and waving at the owner as they continued walking. "We take care of each other here."

More like a bribe, Berwald thought, but continued to smile.

* * *

The evening was spent trying to get the Swede accustomed to the homemade "beer" they had produced, but he only succeeded in drinking a less than half of a single glass.

Shit taste like burnt rubber.

Mathias laughed loud and warmly at this though, and Berwald was able to relax in a way he hadn't though he would ever be able to again.

When night fell, Mathias bid him a goodnight only after Berwald had assured him multiple times that he remembered where his room was. Then the Dane went into the kitchen, audibly trying to harass his staff for goodnight kisses.

Berwald rolled his eyes but went up to bed, both surprised and pleased to find that his belongings were just as he left them.

He lit the candle beside his bed before shutting the door, and then stripped down to his boxers and undershirt before sliding back into bed. Honestly, he had been looking forward to this all day. However, due to the lack of physical excretion, he found his body didn't ache nearly as much as he lied down.

In fact, he was so unaccustomed to it, that he found it was rather hard to fall asleep. He had a lot more to think about, after all. He had met many people today, when it had been so long since he had seen anyone. Not to mention he had a decision to make.

He could stay here, he supposed.

He could live with these people and help their small community grow. Berwald had never been a social person, but, he knew well that if he left now, it might be a far longer time before he found anyone else. It wasn't exactly an attractive idea to go off and die in the wastelands alone. They were kind, he hadn't got any alarming vibes so far. Everyone seemed like a community, but there were some people who appeared to be more solitary than others. Mathias had introduced him to a rather eerie man who worked alone in the greenhouse, a Russian with a thick accent who seemed to care less for company than Berwald did. He had welcomed them warmly initially, but nearly booted the Dane out after only a few moments of looking around.

The security of always having fresh water nearby was also very attractive, but it came with a particular type of fear. The same fear that came from those strong walls that guarded the town.

He had passed many new settlements since the wars, but almost always he passed remains. People destroy each other just as they always had, and the reality that they all now lived in only made things worse. Murdering for water and food made sense here, in this hellish world. And people turn on each other like animals when they feel they are in danger. Berwald avoided these new communes, villages, camps, and rebuilders because it always ended the same way; with blood in. the dust.

Aside from that, Berwald thought as he rolled onto his back, he had always been something of a loner even before everything changed. He didn't get on with people so well. And now he felt that he hardly qualified as human anymore. After everything he had seen, after everything he had done just to survive...

He almost couldn't stand to look at faces like Tino's and Emil's, he almost couldn't stand to believe there was still sweetness in the world, not when he had seen so much ugliness. A part of him wanted to stay for that very reason, to stay and help protect and rebuild a world for them, like Mathias said. But another part of him couldn't bare the thought of staying only to have everything fall apart, to have to watch their horrified faces when people snapped, like they always did, and tore each other limb from limb for the sake of scraps.

That was a driving force that kept him alone. He didn't _want_ to rebuild. He didn't want things to go back to the way they had been before. Maybe they deserved what they got, humanity, but either way he wasn't about to try to pretend the world could ever go back to the way it was.

Before he was too long into his thoughts, however, he began to doze without realizing it and sleep dragged him down in a silent, safe darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

Surprise! I'm back!

I thought I was going to have to give up on this one, but it looks like it's got some life in it yet.

Here's your first set of warnings: graphic depictions of sex, abuse, mental illness, and probably some other triggering stuff. Reader's discretion is advised.

Enjoy!

* * *

Berwald awoke to a soft knock at the door.

Fear was his initial reaction; adrenaline and sweat. He jerked up and immediately reached his hand down to grasp at his gun.

A few moments passed, and another knock sounded. Friendly, no aggression behind the signal. His breathing began to even out, but he didn't release his rifle. After taking a second to swallow, he grunted to signal to whoever was waiting beyond the room.

The faint light from the hallway spilled into the room with the soft creak of the old hinges. Mathias crept into his room slowly, and they stared at each other in the dim light.

Berwald squinted without his glasses in the darkness, feeling tense and vulnerable, but he could tell by the feeling in the room that the Dane was tentative. That he had come for something. Something he wasn't asking for.

Silence.

They both waited, a still hush upon the room, creating a powerful tension that made Berwald painfully sensitive to everything around him. A door closed somewhere above them. Wind howled beyond the thick walls. And a blond man stood in the doorway, torn from the warmth of his own bed by curiosity.

The Swede released his gun and sat up, the blankets pooling at his waist.

Even in the dark, Berwald could tell Mathias' eyes move down his body, and the tension somehow grew to be even more impossibly suffocating. The heat still went to his ears, he was a shy person after all. But in truth, his own curiosity was aroused at the Dane's presence.

It was up to him to make the next move. Mathias had come down here, and so it was up to him to react.

More entranced than anything by the particular feeling of the moment, Berwald held his breath and scooted over in the bed, pulling back the blankets.

A place just big enough for another about his size, if they lied close together.

His action was met with...very little.

The Dane breathed, Berwald could see his chest almost shutter as though he were very cold suddenly, but he held still.

A long time passed, and as the seconds ticked by, Berwald became increasingly less confident in his action. He feared that he might have misinterpreted Mathias' presence here, but had no way to recover gracefully. Just as he was about to make a mess of trying to escape the situation he had put them in, Mathias shut the door before walking over in the darkness, and slipping into bed beside him.

He wasn't sure what he expected, but once the strange man was in bed with him, Mathias immediately snuggled up against his frame, curling up into his chest easily. Berwald froze, overwhelmed with the intensity of the contact.

 _Oh._

He hadn't been touched by anyone in years. He couldn't even summon the memory of what it felt like just to shake someone's hand, let alone touch another intimately. Even his crippling shyness couldn't keep him from grabbing hold of the Dane to keep him where he was.

"It's been a long time," Mathias eventually muttered, but then shifted so he was speaking close to the tender skin of his neck. "Since I saw anybody like you."

The way the Dane's long fingers were gripping his thin shirt distracted him from pondering too intensely on what exactly that meant. It felt so strange and so exciting to have someone pressed against his body. To feel their breath, their heat, to be able to smell them and hear their voice vibrate in their chest. He had been so lonely for so long...

"I want you to stay," he continued. "Here. With me."

Berwald wasn't an idiot. He knew Mathias had only spared his life because he had eyes for him. He led him around and introduced him to the others and spent time with him because he found him attractive. He had known very well that Mathias would proposition him sooner or later, he was just surprised by exactly how soon they had ended up in bed together.

He wasn't sure how to answer, however; he still hadn't had much time to think. Mathias seemed to be making sure of that. But, when the tall Swede remained silent, the man beside him decided to try to persuade and answer out of him more fiercely.

A strange feeling against his neck. Lips. A kiss.

And then a tongue.

Berwald's grip turned to steel on Mathias' shoulder, but the Dane only seemed to take it as encouragement.

That rambling mouth was silenced as it opened against the tender skin of the Swede's neck, and he gasped, a shuttering breath, as he mouthed up closer to his jaw, his tongue and lips teasing and tasting as they went. If he hadn't already been so dark, Berwald was certain he would have gone blind with how intensely this turned him on.

To be fair though, it had been so long that Mathias could have probably winked at him from across the room and it would have had the same effect on his body. Constant occupation with trying to stay alive didn't do much for most people in the ways of romance.

Mathias kissed at his jaw before he placed a warm hand on the side of his face, turning his attention forcefully, and let their lips meet.

Everything in his mind went absolutely silent.

Not a single thought crossed his mind, everything was smothered by the intensity of the kiss. By the heat, their softness, the way they moved so easily against his, as though this was the most normal thing in the world to be doing. Mathias made the rules here, so maybe it really was alright to just see where this could go. With that little push, Berwald lent himself to the kiss, his hand releasing the Dane's shoulder and sliding, a little less than gracefully, up to caress his neck and cheek.

Mathias sighed into the kiss, recklessly pressing closer, as though he were being driven by nothing but instinct and desire. Berwald tried to remind himself that Mathias was smarter than that, and that even here it was unsafe to let his guard down, but the kiss deepened and the hand fell from his face to disappear beneath the blankets and he just gave in. Mathias would get what he came for tonight, but he swore, if tomorrow he tried to kiss him patronizingly in front of everyone like he did to the others, he'd break his damn nose.

There was a moment of playful wrestling while Mathias tried to passionately straddle him and Berwald held him where he was to kiss him more just because he found that it annoyed him. Though he wasn't sure who would win in an actual fight between them, Berwald did have the advantage of size in this particular position. Mathias eventually forced his way on top and drew the blankets up over him, kissing him once more on the lips before he disappeared below the covers.

Berwald gasped, heat rushing to his head in a mix of embarrassment and arousal. As his eyes rolled up to the ceiling, he felt a soft pang in his heart. He had honestly wondered if this part of his humanity was over. It was hard enough just to find another person out in the wastelands, let alone a romantic partner. Not to mention having to constantly watch over your shoulder and stay constantly alert for monsters didn't exactly set the mood. The soft grunts and gasps sounded alien to him now; he almost couldn't believe the noises were coming from his mouth. Mathias made his fair share of noise too, of course, to the point where Berwald shushed him more than once, but it was almost painfully relieving to be able to indulge in sexuality once again.

Somehow, when Mathias' outline reappeared into his range of vision, they were both naked. He wasn't sure how it happened, but he was hardly in any condition to think. All he could do was feel. He ran his hands up and down the Dane's body, watching his back arching enthusiastically, sending electricity through Berwald's entire body. Mathias' head tipped forward, bringing his lips close to his ear and he shuttered before anything was even said.

"How far do you want to go?" he asked huskily, punctuating the question with a soft bite to the shell of his ear.

He damn near whimpered in helpless pleasure, but an honest bolt of nervousness followed the bolt of arousal that shot through him. It had been so long, he wasn't sure he'd even be any good now, as old and inexperienced as he was...

"What are you comfortable with?" Mathias pressed when he sensed the mood falling with the Swede's sudden tension, continuing to tease his ear with bites and licks to maintain his attention. "I don't want to push you into anything,"

Berwald had no idea how to even begin to answer that question. Mathias was asking how far they could go tonight, but he didn't know himself. He was so drunk with desire that he had half a mind to just tackle him on to the cold floor and do it there, but there was a far more anxious part of him that appeared now.

"I don't know," he whispered honestly, disappointed in how weak his voice sounded.

The stranger in his bed pulled back, gauging his face somehow in the darkness. A soothing kiss was pressed to his lips, and a warm hand stroked his chest.

"I'm not asking for anything you aren't willing to give," he said strongly before his voice softened. "I just...I just thought we could have a little fun, ya know?"

Berwald felt himself beginning to smile and pulled Mathias back down to his chest. "Yeah,"

A little fun. The Dane was _dangerous_. He was so dangerous because of how easy it was to trust his words. He spoke with such ease and confidence, as though he had all the answers because all the answers were really quite simple. Berwald didn't doubt that things were not as simple as Mathias was making them feel, but the soft lips and silky tongue that were surrendering to his own harsh advances made him too weak. The silence grew warm once more as their lips met, and their bare skin was creating a subtle friction that built the tension up again quickly.

It was just too easy to give in.

Mathias' roaming hands traced the muscles of his chest, his collarbone, up his neck, and then immediately back down as they kissed, never holding still, keeping Berwald guessing. The Swede endured this as long as he was able, but the burning desire he had been flooded with returned in full force, and he seized Mathias powerfully, flipping him onto his back and pinning the wild Dane beneath him.

Mathias looked up at him, he couldn't see it, but he felt his eyes on him, and a soft, wanton noise escaped his lips. Berwald couldn't control himself then, couldn't stop himself from consuming the Dane as his desires willed him.

Their movements against each other were entirely animalistic, but it was the most human Berwald had ever felt. Mathias took him as he was, rough and unrefined in his skill. The Swede tried to be gentle, but it was a constant battle. He was aware that he gripped too tightly, pulled too hard, and bit too roughly. But it was impossible to stop when each overzealous action was met with an equally unabated shove, shout, or kiss.

He couldn't get enough. Even after they had both finished, Mathias smothered him in hot kisses that trailed down his throat and burned long after his lips were gone. Berwald tried to strangle his own noises, but his entire body was oversensitive and his nerves screamed at the intensity of the contact.

Berwald didn't know what this was.

It had to be more than just sex, but he didn't know what to call it. This was about getting every possible reaction, every noise. It was about experiencing every possible sensation. There was no goal; they orgasmed as often as their bodies would allow, but it was almost beside the point. Just to be with someone again, to kiss them, to breathe their breath, it was insanely intoxicating. Each burning run of Mathias' palm down his bicep, each sweep of his sensuous tongue, and even simple sensations like feel the Dane's breath against his hot skin was some kind of completion in its own.

They extracted all of the sensations they could from each other before they finally began to sink into a calmer state, dissolving into a mess of kissing and nuzzling that would have made anyone blush. But Berwald was still too engrossed in the moment to feel embarrassed. Instead he accepted the man into his arms and held him there, feeling him squirm if only to rub their naked skin together as their bodies lost their furnace-like heat.

"Stay with me," he heard Mathias murmuring into his collarbone.

Berwald breathed in his scent, nuzzling his nose into his soft hair. "Yeah…okay."

Even as they were succumbing to exhaustion, he felt the man perk up and a few excited kisses were pressed to his chest. Berwald smiled a little; it tickled.

"It'll be nice," he mumbled as he drifted off into sleep. "Havin' someone like you around."

Berwald felt his mind stir, as that sentence stirred a thought, but he was also dragged down to sleep, and was unable to think of anything further than complete blackness as his mind went beautifully blank.

* * *

They woke up together, speaking quietly as they dressed and got ready to be seen by others. Mathias was handsome when he was so disheveled, but that didn't surprise Berwald. What surprised him was when Mathias intimately touched his face and pulled him in for a kiss as though he had done it a thousand times.

It was a familiar position to fall into, so he kissed him back, but once the door opened, he replaced his mental barriers.

Whatever it was that had happened last night, today was a new day and he could take nothing for granted.

Mathias kept talking anyway, leading the way downstairs for breakfast. He was telling him about something that had happened before the wars…god, that was such a long time ago. The thought distracted him, but not enough not to notice that Mathias set a hand on him before they walked into the main dining area.

In fact, that hand wouldn't leave his person. Wouldn't quit touching, but it was becoming more than that. He was gripping, directing, controlling. Berwald would admit that he liked Mathias, but these actions were clear; he was demonstrating to the others in the community that Berwald was _his_.

He didn't much care for that.

He didn't belong to anyone but himself. He had scraped and scrapped and survived on his own; he didn't need anyone, and it was foolish of Mathias to presume that he had said last night would still hold water now. Especially if he intended to treat him how he treated the others with him, harassing him to good night kisses like they were his personal harem.

"Mat, we need to talk," he finally interrupted him as he continued on, seemly without any plan of stopping.

The Dane wheeled around and looked at him. He caught a glimpse of that cunning gleam before he plastered on a look of innocence.

"About what?"

"What I said, last night," he tried to stand firm, and had to force himself not to shift around or rub the back of his neck. "I'm...I'm just not so sure,"

Damnit. That wouldn't hold.

"Oh, I know, I know," he brushed it off quickly and winked at him. "Pillow talk. I get it."

Berwald felt his ears burn, but followed him as he began to walk away.

"You need more time, of course," he continued on. "I just wanted you to know that it's an option. So you didn't feel like you had to leave right away or anything,"

It was hard to listen as Mathias went right back to dragging him all over the camp, showing off his latest addition, no doubt. Berwald's frustration was mounting; he wasn't listening to him on purpose.

He groused in silence behind him, but then the Dane brought him to a secured area of the camp, where the people dressed in dark clothes and who carried guns were stationed. They parted silently for them, but their eyes were all the same; narrow and untrusting. They must not have liked Mathias bringing him here. He wondered if that was the only reason he did it.

Mathias opened a heavy door and showed him a control room.

Berwald entered behind him and looked around but waited for Mathias to speak. It looked old, but obviously operational.

"This is the main station," he explained. "This is what keeps us all safe. Day and night."

Berwald frowned, wondering why he was being showing something that was obviously sensitive information. He opted to remain quiet, not trusting the Dane's motives.

"Those…creatures," he spoke again slowly, a dark hate appearing in his eyes. "They used to claw at the walls all night, every night. But we stayed strong, and now they don't come any longer, except when gangs pass by."

Berwald's ears pricked up. Mathias absently twirled a chair around.

"If you want to leave, you can. But I won't open the doors for you until we are certain they are gone." His eyes were locked hard on Berwald's when he looked up.

He didn't know if he believed him, but nodded to indicate he understood.

The simple gesture seemed to relieve some of Mathias' stress, and he gave the old chair a harder spin before perking back up and leading him out of the room.

"Well, then, let's go see if we can't find Lukas, I'm sure we're needed somewhere." He said quickly.

He led them back down the stairs as the armed persons watched him, a nine-fingered man among them.

After that, Berwald escaped Mathias the first opportunity he had. The Dane was arguing with Ivan, the greenhouse keeper and he took the chance to disappear.

Mathias was keeping him busy on purpose. He would do whatever he could to keep him here. He needed to decide what to do and quickly. Mathias could probably come up with a thousand excuses not to open the door.

He decided to seek out Tino. Of the two concubines Mathias kept, he seemed to be the easiest to get information out of. Perhaps that would help him.

It was getting late, and as the light was sucked out of the grey sky, that familiar, bitter cold began to descend upon the small community. Berwald entered the large central building, and found only a few people sitting around, appearing ready to retire. He spotted Tino and approached the counter to get his attention.

The small, mostly-blind man waited until he was close enough to identify, and then smiled and raised a hand in greeting. Berwald grunted, unable to summon a return for the polite gesture. There was too much on his mind.

"Can we talk?" he asked quietly, and then added: "Upstairs?"

Tino seemed to pick up on his vibe immediately, and his anxiety was expressed clearly on his face. But, he nodded, and allowed Berwald to lead the way to the uppermost floors. When they reached his room, Berwald turned to face him.

Tino looked like he already knew what he was about to say.

"I need to leave," he had meant to say more, but it evaporated like water from his mind.

The short blond before him just looked…so sad.

"I understand." He said and reached out, taking Berwald's hand in his and patting it.

He arched an eyebrow. That was easier than he thought it would be. Tino had seemed so determined that he say. Then, the Finn spoke again.

"But, you know, Mathias really is a good guy."

Berwald moved to pull his hand back and Tino's grip suddenly tightened and became frantically desperate.

"Please, just, hear me out," he begged, clinging to him. "There's nothing but death out there! You'll be attacked or starve to death! No one ever makes it back. We can't rebuild if people don't choose to stand together, and there's no reason to be so selfish!"

He frowned, angry at this turn of events, but sensed something else underlying Tino's fear.

"Why me?" he stepped in closer and asked quietly, calling his bluff.

As he predicted, Tino's eyes dropped away from his face. His reasons weren't so noble after all.

"Mathias…likes you,"

Well, he knew that.

"He likes you too. And Lukas." He snorted.

Tino released his hand and fiddled in a defensive manner. "It's more complicated than that."

"Tell me, then."

He looked away, and then back, and then away again.

Berwald was content to wait only a bit longer. He was curious about the mystery that was Mathias, but time was running out. He would have to make his move soon to avoid being caught in the Dane's complex trap.

There was a sudden onslaught of noise, loud and jarring. Tino gasped and covered his mouth, and then immediately began down the hallway.

"Hurry! Come on, we have to hide!" the small Finn hissed, gripping onto his hand. "He's coming!"

Before Berwald could even open his mouth, he heard the loud yelling and the heavy footsteps that had spooked Tino and allowed himself to be yanked back. They ran down the hall to a shallow, but crowded storage room and ducked down behind a few crates as Tino returned the door to its original, slightly-opened position.

"What's going on?" Berwald asked.

Tino shook his head, his eyes wide in terror though he could hardly see.

The yelling got louder, and he finally recognized Mathias' voice, though it hardly sounded like him at all. He couldn't quite understand what he was saying, but he heard other footfalls behind him and strained to peek around the crate when they assented to their floor. He saw Mathias, his eyes wide and furious, and then his hand firmly latched to Lukas' wrist, yanking him as his rapid pace as they climbed. Lukas was holding his captured arm with his other hand, struggling to keep up. He wasn't speaking, but he was obviously as terrified as Tino.

They passed them on, continuing to the final floor without stopping. Once above, Berwald heard Mathias' door slam shut, and then the volume of the screaming rose violently. After a moment, there were a few horrifying sounds coupled with a loud thump, and Tino covered his mouth with a terrified gasp.

"What's going on?" he pressed, feeling a familiar adrenaline rush.

Were they in danger? Was Mathias dangerous?

That would be the most logical conclusion. Everyone's behavior was being to make sense.

Tino swallowed and breathed before he could speak, flinching when the yelling rose against for a moment. "He doesn't mean to do it. He's kind, he really is, he cares about everyone here. It isn't his fault,"

Berwald just fixed him with a hard stare and waited for the answer.

"It isn't his fault," he repeated and then his voice lowered. "But sometimes he just, just loses control. Sometimes he gets mad and just snaps. He doesn't mean it, it's best just to avoid him when he's like this."

"What about Lukas?" Berwald asked, able to hear muffled sobbing from above.

Tino looked down. "Lukas is stronger than he looks. And Emil knows how to hide."

Feeling a sick anger grow within him, he reached over and took Tino's hand. "Come away with me."

His breath froze in his lungs, Berwald could hear it, but then he looked down. "But, Lukas…"

"We'll take him too. And Emil." He told him. "We'll all leave tonight."

He had no idea how he would manage that, but he had left others in such situations before, and he had no intention of leaving them in the hands of someone who could become…this.

"It's not his fault!" Tino repeated desperately. "He's just hurt because of the wars. He's one of the people who actually remembers what it was like. It just, messed him up a little."

Berwald frowned, but couldn't help but sympathize. After all, he could easily recall many comrades of his that had fallen to madness. So much pressure and fear for so long could easily break a man, and for those who it didn't break, they were certainly scarred. Part of him felt sorry for Mathias, wondering if there was something he could do to help. But Tino's trembling and the continued shouting from upstairs urged him that immediate action needed to take place.

"If it isn't safe, then we should leave." he resolved firmly.

Tino struggled. "But, what about the gangs, and the monsters? It's hell out there, there's no way we'd all survive."

"I've survived," he pointed out and then leaned in and spoke quieter. "Look, this isn't the first attempt to rebuild that I've come across, and they all end the same way. With everyone dead."

The small Finn looked down, obviously caught between two evils. On the one hand, he would stay and allow himself, Lukas, and Emil to be harmed by Mathias whenever he had these, episodes, however frequently that was. On the other hand, he would risk his life to run away from him with no promise that they would stop running. Ever.

Berwald had been running for ages, it seemed. This was an easier decision to him. He was honestly more afraid of crazy humans than any dangers he might encounter out in the wasteland. But Tino was almost blind and had never had to run like he had. But he obviously knew the risks of living under the authority of someone who was, _unstable_.

"O-Okay," he stuttered and swallowed. "Let's get our things, and we'll wait for Lukas outside."

They moved quickly, clearing out the room Berwald had been given. He took the blanket from the bed and they left, shutting the door behind them. Tino seemed to think that it was possible for him to sneak upstairs to his room, but Berwald waited below, not wanting his heavy steps to give them away.

Tino moved silently up the stairs and he bit his lip.

He had no idea that Mathias was _this_ damaged. He had seen hints of his pain, but no one had survived to be their age without losing quite literally everything. He had seen men lose their minds to many things though, to the wars, to the death, to loneliness...

A few minutes after Tino disappeared and Berwald began to fidget. What was taking so long? What was he looking for? Had Mathias found him? No, he probably would have heard the noise. It had all gone quiet now.

What if Tino was going to expose their plan to Mathias? Turn him over in hopes of saving himself?

He had no idea what he would do then. He had his rifle, he supposed. But he was just one man, and Mathias had a small town ready to come to his aid if called.

Berwald began to pace a little, moving closer to the wall for some kind of cover. Maybe he should just go without him. He would have better chances alone anyway.

What was taking so long?

"Waiting for someone?"

Berwald's heart leaped in his chest and he turned. Mathias appeared in the stairway, looking absolutely soulless. He had been impossibly quiet and Berwald was honestly terrified. Tino was nowhere to be seen, nor was Lukas. He was aware that he was standing with his gun and all his possessions...no way to make it look like he wasn't about to leave.

So, he opted for honesty.

"What's going on?" his voice came out weaker than he had hoped.

Mathias didn't even blink. He walked forward a few steps, bringing himself fully into the hallway. It was almost impossible to believe this was the man he had seen earlier that day; he looked so cold.

"Nothing," he said in a soft voice, shaking his head in an unnatural manner. "Everyone's just going to bed. Everyone, but you."

Berwald swallowed unintentionally. There was no way to hide what his intentions had been. Had Tino given him over? He had no way of knowing.

"I never agreed to anything," he stated, trying not to tense, not wanting the situation to escalate.

Mathias didn't look happy with that response, and his face darkened. "You're all the same,"

He didn't know what that meant and didn't really want to stick around to find out. He knew it wasn't yet time to make his move, so he opted to remain silent.

"After everything I struggled to build, after everything I gave," he continued, and took another step towards him. "And you're so damn _ungrateful_. Uncooperative. Stubborn."

Berwald was aware of the violent atmosphere. He knew Mathias was capable of going off at any moment. He didn't see any weapons in his hands though, and Berwald had a gun.

"I _care_ , you know? I care that you fucking idiots are wandering in the damned dessert alone. I was _there_. I saw it all! And I gave everything I could to build these walls, to keep those _things_ out!" his voice was climbing to a shrill pitch and he stepped forward further.

A part of his heart ached for Mathias. There had been so much death, so much suffering. He just wanted some peace, a small sanctuary in the midst of all this chaos and evil.

"Mat," he whispered softly, unsure of what else there was to do.

Finally, the Dane reached him. They stood, chest to chest, with Mathias breathing heavily as the only sound filling the hallway.

It was hard to believe that this was the same man that he had laid with the night before. His eyes were eerily empty and the lines in this aging face seemed deeper and more pronounced. He looked cruel. Cold. _Mad_.

"Don't do it. Don't be like the others." He voice was low and sinister. "Don't be so damn stubborn that you go out there and die for nothing."

Whatever he had thought or felt before, his instincts were screaming at him to get away from Mathias. To fight, to kill, to do whatever he had to in order to escape the Dane. This was bad, and he needed to get away.

Mathias must have seen his panic, and his dark eyebrows lowered above those unfocused eyes.

"Fine, then. If that's how you want it."

A sudden blur, and Mathias drew a hidden pistol out from behind his back. Berwald didn't have time to process what was happening before he had already moved.

A cry, a gunshot, and a body fell limply to the floor.

Berwald had never wanted to rebuild. It always ended the same way: with everyone dead.


	4. Chapter 4

"I-Is he...is he dead?"

Tino crept down the stairs into the opening of the light of the hallway. A weak and beaten figure appeared behind him, holding his shoulder. The two of them awaiting a terrible answer.

Berwald looked down at the figure at his feet. He was feeling his empty heart tremble as though it were breaking.

"...No."

But, the Dane was not dead. The subtle rise and fall of his chest indicated his was breathing. Berwald had definitely knocked him unconscious, but he would wake later, when they were long gone.

Tino and Luke huddled close together for a moment, breathing until the threat of sobs passed.

"We need to leave,"

"But-" Tino looked wretchedly torn, concern for Mathias evident on his face.

" _Now._ " Berwald punctuated, his chest and knuckles sore from the fight. "Or stay."

To his credit, Tino disappeared after placing a lingering hand on Lukas' uninjured shoulder. The Norwegian looked up at Berwald with tears glistening in his eyes. His heart was certainly breaking, he could see it. He didn't know what he had gone through with Mathias, but there were so damn few of them left. What could he do?

When the Finn returned, Berwald had moved away from Mathias' body and stood facing the stairwell. Lukas didn't look at either of them, but he turned when they all heard small footsteps climbing cautiously down the stairs. Emil looked at them all standing in the opening of the hallway. Berwald became increasingly aware of the cooling blood on his knuckles. The child put his hand, covered by his long sleeve, to his tiny mouth.

"Tino," he breathed quietly. "Take him with you. Please."

"Come with us, Luke," he insisted immediately as if he had expected this, his tone urgent and serious. "We can all go together, just like before,"

He shook his head, glancing at him before he looked back into the hallway and then took Tino's hand. "I can't. Please, just take Emil. I'm begging you,"

The young boy began to weep, moving the rest of the way down the stairs to grab hold the fabric of Lukas pants. Berwald had no doubt he understood what was happening, if only enough to know that he was being parted from Lukas. After something unknown was exchanged between the two small figures both trembling in the ashy light, they parted, and Lukas picked Emil up, hugging him tightly to his chest before whispering in his hear, and handing him to Tino. Tino covered the boy's head as he wept harder, and Berwald finally had to speak once more.

"We have to go," his words sounded so harsh, but they both nodded to him.

Lukas looked up at him. "Take care of them."

The weight of his voice was heavy on him. He had only cared for himself for so long, and now he had not only another body to look after, but a young child that would need even more attention. Still, there was no possible way for him to refuse, so he nodded.

They parted, hearts bound in fear and dread, and an immeasurable sadness. Lukas would stay behind to care the Dane for the night, and hopefully to give them time to escape. Berwald wondered if he would kill the beautiful Norwegian when he found out. He wondered what could possibly stop him. Surely there was no court system here. Not in these wastelands.

No law. Hadn't been for ages.

Men did what they wanted, even if they were pretending they had built a society.

Three shadowy figures escaped the walls of the settlement that night, and glided across the empty land like ghosts. No tracks, no evidence they had been there at all. Berwald led them, Tino's hand sometimes bold enough to touch his arm or hip for guidance, and together they disappeared into the distance.

* * *

By the time the sun rose, Emil rested on Berwald's shoulder and Tino was supporting most of his weight on Berwald's arm. They needed to rest.

Somewhat annoyed, since he was used to going for days at a time with hardly any rest, and feeling an urgency to put as much space between them and that damned settlement as possible, he grunted roughly when he spotted a place to rest.

It could hardly be called a shelter. It was a bunch of rocks clustered together, but there was some shade, and it was not exactly an obvious landmark. So, Berwald led them towards it.

"What is it?" Tino asked.

He was breathless and nearing exhaustion but still on guard.

"A place to rest." Berwald huffed, and then felt a pang in his heart when he realized Tino was squinting as hard as he could. "Just some big rocks."

"Oh." He said, and his eyes relaxed to their normal, large size.

He led them into the outcropped stones, settling down to hide behind the megalithic rocks to rest in the shade. They drank and Tino breathed heavily, but Emil mostly just wept more between dozing. Tino's eyes were shut the second his head rested back against the cool stone, a blessing in this oppressive heat. He looked nervously up to the sky, something high flew overhead. Something that filled him with an ominous dread. He anticipated Mathias would be fully awake now, and there was no knowing what he might think to do about them leaving in the night.

* * *

"I can't believe we really left," Tino muttered after a while of walking.

Berwald arched an eyebrow, but kept looking forward.

"I wish Luke could have come," he added, and pat Emil's back when he curled up tighter.

"Why didn't he?" Berwald finally asked.

The question had been gnawing at his mind. Lukas obviously had some kind of relationship with Mathias, but the fact that he was willing to risk Emil's life to send him off into the wastelands with a strange to escape, but not come himself, was extremely bizarre.

Tino sighed softly. "It's complicated."

He had said that twice now. Berwald frowned but said nothing further. After a little while longer of walking through the blistering heat in silence, he spoke again.

"Lukas loves Mathias." He finally said. "He thinks that he can fix him, that he can help repair some of that damage that makes him so crazy. I tried to tell him, lots of times, that I don't think it's like that. I don't think it's really something to be fixed in him."

Ah.

It was a shame. Lukas was so beautiful, and no one deserved to be beaten by that, especially by someone they loved. He recalled the bruises and twisted shoulder in vivid detail and lowered his head a bit. He didn't know if Tino knew what had happened between Mathias and him, but somehow, he felt ashamed of it now.

He felt sad.

"Mathias isn't always like that, and it doesn't happen all the time. If we had more time…I just don't know." The resignation in his voice was heavy. "Maybe you're right. Maybe we can't rebuild. If I had to guess, I would say that we were meant for extinction now. Man's time on this earth is done. And if that's the case, then it's a sin to try to rebuild."

The dark tone was especially strange coming from Tino; the one who had been so cheerful only a short time ago. Berwald didn't know what his view of the grand scheme was, but figured that whatever it was, it was probably to large for someone like him. He was content to worry about himself, about the current moment and little else. He had no long-term goal other than to survive.

"How long have you been out here?" Tino asked, his tone changing slightly.

Berwald glanced at him. "Not sure. There's really no way to tell anymore."

"If you had to guess?"

Sparing a moment to honestly think about it, he huffed. "Maybe a few years. Six or seven if I had to guess."

"That's…such a long time. And, you've been alone this whole time?"

He nodded and risked looking behind them. "I was a solider. After my company scattered, I wandered alone for a long time. A lot of the people who were left got, sick."

The small Finnish man nodded solemnly. "My family all got sick. From the water, we think. My father sent me away. I found Lukas and Emil then, and we all went together. We were all leaving the same area from up north; everyone always said it would be better further south. We found Mathias before he started the settlement. He protected us from the gangs."

"Where did all the others come from?"

"Some of them just found us over time. Vash and Elizabeta were the leaders of a gang that decided to join up with us. They protected us, day and night." Tino's voice dropped to a whisper. "Mathias wanted to protect everyone so bad, that Lukas said he didn't sleep for days on end, just watching over the walls all night while they were being built. He said if he fell asleep, he had terrible nightmares about those creatures. He hates them more than anything."

Berwald continued to scan the horizon. He understood Mathias' hatred. Those creatures, if superstitions were true, had once been human after all. That meant every time Mathias faced them, he was facing the twisted, mutated, dark version of what humanity could become. He was obsessed with protecting that which he felt was good and pure about humanity in his settlement. Maybe that was why he surrounded himself with people like Tino, Lukas, and Emil. Innocent, young, pure.

"I hate them, too," he whispered. "For the same reason as him. I hate that I can see myself in them."

Tino seemed surprised, but contemplated this quietly. Eventually Berwald took Emil from him as they walked, and Tino eventually moved close enough to touch his back or hip for guidance.

* * *

They were nearing the remains of what appeared to have once been a small town, which put Berwald on edge. Tino was already exhausted again, however, and he was carrying two people now. They couldn't go on like this. But, they couldn't rest out in the open either. There was nothing else to hide behind, not so much as a ditch out in the waste. So he walked ever closer, eyeing the town with suspicion.

"Let's rest there," Tino's voice was dry and his weak eyes were bleary.

"It may not be safe," he grunted quietly, his hears ringing with how hard they strained to catch any hint of sound coming from the ruins.

"We can make a shelter," he insisted weakly.

Berwald didn't like it, but there was a body on each of his shoulders, relying on him to get them to shelter. So, he drew his gun and walked forward towards the settlement. Briefly, he considered setting them aside and going forward alone. He thought he might shoot into the air, try to draw out the creatures like how he had seen the gangs do, so then he would know everything would be dead before they went into the town. But death drew the creatures, even their own dead would summon more of them. So instead he crept forward with them, searching for a building that was at least partially intact.

They found a small, single room building, but it was impossible now to tell what it might have been. Little more than brick and decaying wood. The wind blew through it, hot against his skin, though they now stood in the shade of the building. Every noise, every rustle, every gulp made Berwald's hair stand on end.

He didn't like this; their position was not secure. But, as night fell, weariness began to claim them all, and an unexpected exhaustion overtook him in the night, leaving the three of them to sleep as vulnerable as kittens.

A dream. Screaming and gunshots. The smell of sulfur. Someone was calling his name and he was torn. He couldn't see them, but he didn't know if he should look for them or continue on. It burned to breathe. They screamed his name again, and he felt dread deep in his stomach.

Berwald was awoken shortly by a horrible, real noise.

A hiss, and a snarl, and then a high-pitched scream of pain.

Something black and demonic was crouched over Emil, and Tino awoke with the scream as well, but couldn't do anything other than give his own cry of terror. Berwald acted as fast as his stunned muscles would let him, though he felt as though he were moving under water. He raised his pistol and fired a single shot through the back of the creature's skull.

The noise was deafening in its intensity. But the creature collapsed and Tino immediately grasped Emil, trying to assess the damage. Berwald joined him, aware that Tino would not be able to see it well enough, and grimaced.

A bite.

"He's been bitten," Berwald told him, seeing the blood beginning to drip down the boy's arm.

"He needs medicine!" Tino cried over the toddlers stunned half-whimper, half-scream.

"Medicine?" he frowned.

"We have a cure, we can stop the spread if he gets it in time, but we have to go now!"

Berwald began to nod, but then there was a second horrible noise.

A loud roaring sound.

He scrambled for his rifle. Tino pulled the injured child into his arms and the three of them stared in wide-eyed terror as they recognized the sound of a vehicle moving towards them, just beyond the walls of the settlement.

The vehicle stopped on the road beside the broken buildings, but the engine kept rumbling.

"Tino!" Mathias' voice sounded like the hounds of hell to Berwald. "Emil!"

He was frozen in terror, but Tino held Emil's head and looked at the Swede with a face of defeat.

Before he could stop him, the small Finn carried Emil out to where they were visible to the tall Dane standing on the large, armored vehicle.

"Berwald, you traitorous, cowardly bastard, get out here and face me!" his voice was reaching a tone of insanity, but Berwald had no choice.

He followed Tino, his rifle over his shoulder and his gun in hand. The night was growing older, but Mathias was clearly visible in the moonlight. His eyes shown wide with his wild anger, his hair blowing with his loose shirt. In the passenger seat beside him, was a very small lump that Berwald then realized to be Lukas. He was beaten worse now, but he still perked up eagerly when he saw Tino and Emil.

The Norwegian slipped from the car to run to them, Emil nearly falling out of Tino's grip reaching for him. They all embraced tightly, tears from even unseeing eyes. But Mathias had fallen quiet to watch them.

Terrifyingly quiet.

"What happened?" Lukas hissed.

"He got bit, just now, we need to get him back!" Tino whispered back desperately.

"Lukas." Mathias commanded, and the Norwegian turned to look up at him, tears streaming down his cheeks as he held Emil tight to his chest.

"He's been bitten?" he asked in a smooth, terrifying tone.

Lukas nodded as the boy cried in pain.

"If you shoot Berwald," he continued in that same, soft, melodic voice. "We can all get in the car and go home. We can save Emil, Lukas. But you have to do this for me first."

Berwald's eyes widened as Mathias handed the Norwegian a handgun and he passed Emil back to Tino. Lukas looked down at the shiny revolver with fear, but then he looked at the poor little boy. Suffering and all but dead if they couldn't get him help immediately.

His eyes returned to Berwald, to the stranger, and his eyebrows lowered as he raised the gun with both hands.

"Mat, please, don't to this, you don't really want him to-" Tino began but was cut off by a shriek from Mathias.

" _Shut up!_ " he roared. "Shoot him or leave Emil to die, it's your decision!"

Berwald, for all his fighting to survive, for everything he had lived through, had no desire to see this turn out in a way that injured any of them. So, he dropped his pistol and lowered his arms.

Go ahead. Maybe he had lived long enough anyway.

Lukas let out a hard sob and Tino covered Emil's face. Mathias was watching with the devil in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Lukas whispered though his tears.

He shut his eyes and waited for the sound of the gun.

However, what he heard next was far less pleasant than even the gunshot that was to take him down. He heard a series of hisses and snarls and opened his eyes just in time to see an entire pack of creatures descending upon them.

Lukas immediately moved the gun and shot one that was running towards them, and Berwald whirled around with his rifle in hand, firing on any definite shapes he could make out.

A ring of fire above his head, and something fell off a building, dying just near Berwald. The gun responsible belonged to the Dane. Mathias was apparently on their side for a moment, but he didn't waste time thinking about it.

They fought in a flurry of shouting, cussing, and gunfire. Berwald and Mathias were the experienced fighters, and they both somehow ended up side-by-side, protecting Lukas, Tino, and Emil, even as Lukas helped with the pistol. The last creature, which had sprung from seemingly nowhere, took the Dane down, and before Berwald could process anything, he had already shot it there at his feet.

Mathias rolled out from under the creature, miraculously missing a bullet wound in his head, but instead with an open wound on his exposed chest. Not a bullet, but a bitemark. Infected.

"Mat!" Tino shrieked when he saw.

The Dane put a hand to his head, as if waking up from a dream, and appeared far calmer than he had previously.

"We need to get medicine," Lukas gasped breathlessly.

"I brought some. It's in the bag. Give it to Emil," the Dane ordered, his voice once again sane and filled with consideration.

Berwald looked down, bewildered.

Only a moment ago this man had been ready to have him shot in the face, holding the medicine for the child as the prize. Now he was sacrificing himself to save Emil, completely regardless of Berwald.

Lukas didn't wait for him to change his mind.

While the Swede was standing over the injured Dane frowning in confusion, he tore open a large duffle and scrambled to snatch a single injection of a pale liquid. Tino held Emil as he tried to weakly turn away in protest to the shot, but Lukas didn't give him long to be afraid, and stuck him in the chest with the needle. The little boy squeaked and whined in pain, but then Lukas retrieved the medicine kit and began to bandage his arm, and he ceased his weeping for the most part.

Mathias was beginning to clutch at his chest wound, but his breathing was regular. His eyes were losing their terrifying light, and fading instead to a more honest horror. He looked constantly from Berwald to Tino to Lukas and Emil as though he were just waking up from a terrible nightmare.

The Swede had half a mind to put the crazy bastard down, standing over him with a loaded rifle. But once Emil was taken care of and placed in the vehicle, Lukas ran over with the medicine kit. He pushed Mathias back to expose the wound, but as soon as he brushed away the cloth he covered his mouth with the back of his hand and a single sob escaped.

It was a bad bite. Mathias already looked pale and sweaty, and had little energy to try to protest being patched up.

"I'm so sorry Luke, I'm so fucking sorry," he muttered over and over again, touching the Norwegian's face on the side of his blackened eye.

The more he apologized though, the more Berwald couldn't help think that this was all his fault. The terror, the injuries, the pain, all of it could have been avoided. Before he knew it, he was clutching his gun even tighter, ready to aim it at the back of the Dane's head.

"We have to get him back," Lukas tried to say strongly. "Now."

"We'll drive fast, we can make it," Tino tried to sound encouraging.

"Why should we?" Berwald finally barked.

Everyone turned to look at him in shock, but it only made him angrier.

"He tried to kill us. He was willing to let Emil die," He growled and looked at Lukas' injured face and body. "And look at what he did to you. He's fucking crazy."

"I'm sorry," Mathias was whispering pitifully.

He raised the gun at him, his nerves fried from the entire ordeal. "Why should we save you when you would have left us all for dead?"

Lukas was frozen, in terror and frustration, his fists balled at his side. But it was Tino who approached him, and rested a hand on his arm.

"Forgive him, Ber. Your hatred, your _anger_ , it'll make you crazy too. You have to let it go."

The soft voice, his hand lightly touching his arm…it was sapping his anger. He growled against it, and tried to pull away. The flame still lit in his chest, making him angry and vengeful. But, the Finn persisted.

"We have to help him. Otherwise, what's the difference between us and _them_?" he gestured to the dead creatures lying nearby.

He heard Tino's reason and it dampened his fire. Defeated, he grunted and let his arms fall to his side.

"Get the car. We have to hurry." He bent down and seized Mathias, lifting him up into his arms with little kindness.

Honestly, it made him feel a little better when the Dane hissed in pain.

Lukas ran to the driver's seat, and Tino held Emil beside him as Berwald climbed into the back with the injured Dane.

The car rumbled loudly as they started off again, so Berwald was less surprised when he saw a creature appear and begin chasing them. He lifted his pistol, trying to hold it steady on the bumpy road, and fired once. It collapsed in a heap and he settled the gun back on his hip.

Mathias had flinched at the gunshot, and was now half curled up on his lap, dark blood soaking the leg of Berwald's pants. As he stared down at his face, he couldn't believe all that had happened since he had first seen him. It almost felt like a dream, like he would wake up out in the wastelands by himself, and this would have all just been imagined.

He had met Mathias when he spared his life. He had shot Vash, and though the wound was hardly fatal, he had the right to kill him for the attack. But instead he brought him in and tried to convince him to stay. They were attracted to each other, sure, but perhaps it was what Mathias saw in Berwald that reminded him of his own struggle. They had both been soldiers in the wars, and they had seen the greatest armies and civilizations in the world fall into chaos. They knew they would have been luckier to die. But for some reason, they fought on. Maybe that's why Mathias wanted him. He was a survivor.

He caught himself holding Mathias' hand comfortingly before he realized it.

"Ber?" he whispered quietly, the noise of the tank-like vehicle mostly drowning him out.

The Swede looked down at him, debating on whether or not to take his hand back.

"I'm so fucking sorry," he said and closed his eyes in pain. "If I don't make it, please take care of them. I know what I've done, but they're worth savin'. You gotta believe me Ber; they're worth it, every bit."

He glanced up to see if anyone in the front of the car was listening. They didn't appear to hear.

"You gotta, gotta do whatever it takes," his words were beginning to slur together, and he squeezed his hand tightly. "No second chances. Can't let them take any more, gotta protect everyone,"

Berwald frowned at the rambling, and was thankful when he finally lost consciousness. He had to figure out what the hell they were going to do. The others at the settlement would have questions, and he had no idea how they would react to the story anyone intended to tell. He decided that for his part he would stay quiet. What they did likely depended on if the Dane survived or not.

If not, then he would ask Tino and Lukas what they wanted. If they wanted to stay and try to rebuild with the settlement, or if they wanted to go. If they wanted to go, he would protect them. If they wanted to stay, he figured he could stick around for a while, maybe until he could make sure everyone could handle things without Mathias.

If he survived…well then, he had no fucking idea what he was going to do.

* * *

The settlement came into view in only a few hours, but the sky was still ominously clouded and the land was shrouded in darkness. Lukas frowned and slowed down as they drew closer.

"What is it?" Tino asked quickly, squinting out the dirty windshield.

Berwald sat up stiffly in the back seat. Something was wrong. Something was _very_ wrong.

"Oh my god," Lukas whispered in stunned horror.

Other armored vehicles and motorcycles were congregated around the walls of the settlement. They were unoccupied. The gangs must have returned while they were away, and while Mathias had left to chase them.

"Are they inside?" Berwald asked and Mathias stirred on his lap.

"I-I," Lukas trembled before he coughed and pulled himself together. "I think so, we need to go, we have to help them,"

Berwald wasn't sure what their small, injured party would be able to do in the ways of helping, but they had the element of surprise as far as they knew, so maybe that would be enough to do something. Mathias, Tino, and Emil would have to stay behind though. There was no way any of them could fight.

Lukas brought the car closer and departed with Berwald, taking what weapons they could carry. Tino chewed his lip but when Lukas charged him with the task of protecting the vehicle until they got back, he shook his head hard.

"There's no choice, you have to wait here," Lukas hissed back.

"If you leave us here," Tino said, that dark and alien tone. "You condemn us all to death."

Berwald felt a heavy weight on his chest, but Lukas stamped his foot into the dust in childish frustration.

"Fine," he hissed.

They shook Mathias awake, exiting the vehicle with two able-bodied gunmen, a mostly-blind Fin with a knife, an injured toddler, and an injured Dane with a rifle and a handgun.

Berwald wasn't sure he could be completely convinced this wasn't a dream.

"Alright, there's an entrance over here, follow me,"

They all followed the shorter Norwegian towards the wall, and then to a door that he opened by pushing hard on the edge of one of the panels. They crept inside, enclosing themselves in complete darkness once the door shut and sealed behind them.

"Slowly, there are a lot of stairs to get to the top," he whispered, the soft sound still echoing against the hard steel.

They felt forward, nearly forced to their hands and knees, finding the set of narrow, metal stairs, and began to climb. Tino held Emil, and held the back of Lukas' shirt for guidance. Mathias leaned heavily on Berwald, and he could feel the blood seeping into his clothes.

They didn't have long to get control of this situation.


	5. Chapter 5

Lukas moved in front. He was battered, but he was the most familiar with the layout of the complex and the fortifications of the walls, and he moved the quietest. Berwald followed, trying to carry himself as silently as the Norwegian, his pistol clutched tightly in his right hand. The rest of their party trailed several feet behind them, waiting for Lukas and Berwald to clear the way first.

"Everyone's gone," Mathias whispered from the rear. "Where are they?"

The walls were devoid of any life at all. None of the people who lived in the settlement were to be seen, not even the security personnel, including Vash.

Lukas shook his head silently, but Berwald doubted anyone could see him in the dark. He was creeping forward, peeking dangerously over the edge to gaze into the center of the complex. He dropped back down equally slowly.

"They're all down there," he breathed, barely audible. "Rounded up."

Berwald grimaced. He didn't like the sound of that.

"Where's the gang?" he whispered back.

Lukas shook his head again.

No where to be seen. A trap?

"They have to be at the control station," Lukas pointed further in the direction they were heading.

They looked at each other. They needed a plan.

"We could send Tino and Emil back," Berwald muttered. "An' leave Mat here with a rifle to cover us,"

It was nearly suicidal, but it was the best they could do.

Lukas nodded, and they relayed the plan.

Tino grabbed Emil, meeting his eyes before he nodded and moved off silently, staying close to the wall. Berwald hoped it wouldn't be the last time he saw them.

Mathias hugged Lukas as best he could, grunting with obvious pain and whispering apologies. Lukas pushed his forehead against Mathias' in frustration before pulling away.

Berwald met his eyes briefly, but made to turn without saying anything. This whole mess was still his fault, after all. Even after…

"Ber," he whispered after him.

He stopped, if only to prevent Mathias from calling after him louder and blowing their cover.

"I'm…s-" he stopped himself. "Be careful, please."

He grunted softly, it was all he could think to do, and then he moved behind Lukas and they left the injured Dane to his own devices.

As they crept closer to where Mathias had taken him just the day before, faint voices finally reached his ears.

 _"Is that everyone?"_

 _"Yeah, everyone we found."_

 _"Okay, get ready to set off the siren."_

Lukas and Berwald looked at each other in confused alarm, but they weren't left in suspense for long. A sudden, blaring scream split the air around them. Berwald pressed his hands to his ears, almost dropping his gun. The painful pitch and volume of the siren was only made worse when it stopped after a few seconds, and the silence fell over the complex once more.

Berwald's fears were confirmed then. They were going to use the creatures to clean out the complex. They would wait until they were clawing at the walls, and then they would open the doors and leave nothing left alive. The gang would wait on the high walls, well sheltered, and slaughter the creatures as they tore the people below apart.

They had to stop them before they opened the doors.

 _"Wait for five, and then do it again."_

Someone spoke from around the corner, though the painful ringing in their ears made it hard to pinpoint exactly where it was coming from.

Lukas made a gesture for him to stay put, and crept forward, flattening himself behind a small, protruding corner. He glanced around it slowly, and then gave him an all-clear. He moved forward, but struggled to do so with as much grace. He gestured some more.

Three inside the door. Two outside of the door. One further up the walkway. Go on the other side, so you're next to the door.

Berwald nodded, realizing that Lukas must have had military background as well. Then the Norwegian leaned in and spoke directly into his ear to ensure he heard him.

"When they start the siren again, we move."

Berwald grunted affirmatively.

The shorter man pressed against the wall again and moved further around, looking up the walkway. Berwald quickly twisted and crossed the narrow walkway, pressing his back to the opposite wall so that now they were facing each other, backs to opposite walls. They waited.

A thought flashed across his mind of Tino and Emil hiding in the stairway, their hands pressed over their ears. He hoped they were okay.

Mathias would be tougher. But he was hurt, and hardly bandaged up at all. He wouldn't be able to hold out on his own for long. Berwald found himself hoping it would be enough to get them all through this.

The siren blared again, sudden and incessant. It split his eardrums, but Lukas moved without looking back at him, tilting his head a fraction of an inch to look beyond the corner of the wall, and fired.

Berwald hardly had time to gather himself before there was a loud commotion. He stupidly went to lean over and fire a shot as well, but caught himself when he heard a rifle fire far behind them. Mathias was still conscious, at least.

"There!" Someone was shouting, and Berwald seized the opportunity to then take his shot.

As he peered out far enough, he saw one man dead, slumped against the door. The other had apparently fled, but he saw the man on the walkway. He was frantically searching the wall for signs of Mathias. Berwald aimed for his head.

These fucking gangs were a plague on humanity, just as bad as the monsters. Maybe worse. Because they did it on purpose.

He took some satisfaction in watching him crumple to the ground.

The siren shut off, and it took a moment before Berwald could determine the sounds of shouting and panic through his damaged eardrums.

"Find them! Find them!" someone was shouting in rabid panic.

Berwald might have rolled his eyes. They preyed on those who were too weak to fight for themselves. There was nothing on earth they feared more than a fair fight. Cowards.

The door opened and ricocheted of the wall, startling him. He dropped lower on his heels and aimed. One man finally did step out, but he whirled around and fired when Berwald's change it stance had caused him to lose balance and his back hit the wall. A crushing feeling overwhelmed his shoulder and chest, feeling almost as though he were being held in the jaws of some great creature. Lukas shot the man immediately, and no others emerged.

Human sacrifice. He should have expected something like this.

"We need to throw them below! That smell will bring those things up here!"

"Wait! There's others still out there!"

On cue, a shot rang from further across the wall, and Mathias' rifle shot blasted the door so that it fell to hang crooked on its hinges. A bit of splintered wood hit off his jacket. Too damn close.

Two men ran out and positioned themselves, using the wall as a barricade, not knowing the Swede was behind them. He aimed at the back of their heads, moving forward a slight degree. He braced himself against the pain that was about to flood his body when he pulled the trigger, the powerful rifled held flush against the bullet wound on his shoulder. Something moved on the side of his vision, but he didn't have time to turn before he saw white and tasted blood.

Lukas had estimated their numbers wrong.

* * *

He was surprised he awoke at all.

His ears were ringing with deafness and perhaps a mild concussion, and his eyes saw what echoes sound like. But after a few minutes of blinking stupidly, he realized he was restrained in the control station, along with Mathias, Lukas, Tino, and Emil. None of them looked to be in very good shape, and he had to close his eyes against the burning, aching pain in his shoulder.

There were others in the room, but Berwald also noticed they had horded some provisions into the room, including a separate box of syringes that he identified to be identical to the shot they had given Emil. The cure.

Their captors stood in the room, spread out and watching them intently. There were four men standing around the room, trained on them, and one with his back to them. He was watching the window outside and was eerily still. As if this situation was not one of blood and terror.

"If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness."

The man turned slowly. His face was scarred and covered in large patches of what might have been burns. Berwald didn't think he had ever seen him before, but he was certain he would remember his face.

"Mankind is suffering the Judgement of God. We must atone for our sins and cleanse the world of our evil before we can begin again. In New Eden." He looked at each of them in turn, his eyes lingering on Emil. "But until then, we must continue our righteous task, and eliminate the evil before we can allow ourselves to start anew."

"He's insane," Tino whispered in horror.

"You're insane!" Mathias shouted loudly, struggling against his binds. "There is no God! There is no Judgement, or New Eden! If you keep slaughtering settlements there won't be anyone left to rebuild! You'll exterminate the human race!"

The man moved forward faster than Berwald could see and struck Mathias twice, once in the gut and once in the face. The already injured Dane crumpled over on himself with a low groan. Berwald moved but was held by the binds wrapped around his wrists and ankles. None of them would last long if they didn't come up with something quick, but the Dane was already so pale. His feelings were still mixed up regarding the man beside him, but he didn't miss the way his heart cringed when he saw the blood drip from his lips.

"Silence!" He righted himself before turning. "I don't expect heathens like you to understand our holy task. But, I know my charge. And I will see to it that God's Will is done."

He walked forward for a moment and the room fell silent. Tino gasped. They all heard it. Beyond the walls, that horrible noise. Scratching, clawing, snarling. The creatures were waiting beyond the walls.

"You and your defiance," he sneered quietly before turning, walking until he kicked the box of injections with his boot.

Lukas visibly flinched.

"There is no cure for sin." He said, stooping to lift one of the injections, only to drop it and crush it with his foot.

"No!" Lukas exclaimed loudly.

"All infected with sin must die!" he shouted back, kicking the box again before turning away in anger. "There is no cure. The only way to cleanse this evil is by righteous fire."

Mathias and Berwald glanced at each other. They had to do something, and they were running out of time.

"Alert the others," the man nodded to someone to his left. "and open the doors."

"No!" Mathias roared thunderously.

One of the gang members left the room as order and another one stepped up to the control panel. There was no hesitation in his movements, and an overwhelming sense of failure began to descend upon Berwald. His shoulders fell as he envisioned the scene.

So much death.

Always, so much death.

"Hey!" someone shouted and he reopened his eyes just in time to see Tino, who had somehow slipped out of his binds, untie Mathias.

The Dane moved with vengeance and maybe a little bit of madness, and he was across the room before the men could fire. He knew they would be more careful in this small space, as to not shoot each other, and so he drove straight for the leader. Berwald saw them go down somewhere behind the center chair and console, and turned his head.

Tino was already crawling towards him, tugging on the binds until they slipped loose. He had no gun, but he knew where the closest one was. He lunged at the closest gang member, who was moving on them. He fired, but they were in too close of quarters, so Berwald was only in mild danger of having a foot shot off. The bullet never found its target, and the old Swede was able to jab him in the throat with all the force of the frustrations this situation had built within him.

If he had known these guys for any longer than a few days, he might have had the strength to rip the man's head off. But instead, he seized the weapon while the man released it to grab at his collar, choking and gasping before Berwald shot him in the face.

The blood splattered back on his glasses, and earned him most of the attention in the room. Time seemed to fall into slow-motion around him, and he saw the nearest gang member moving towards him, the one at the console pausing to stand and look between him and Mathias, raising his gun, while Mathias struggled with the leader and another, taller gang member.

Lukas was moving the fastest of all, however. Once free, he leapt forward and grabbed a syringe from the box, but then did something that surprised Berwald. He heaved the box up, and threw it at the man in front of the console. There was a loud, sharp shout, and the man staggered backwards as injections and vials crashed to the floor, creating a large distraction.

Berwald seized the short opportunity and shot the man directly in front of him. He saw the window behind them, the one directly above Mathias and the leader's head, crack with a loud split. Now only the leader and the taller gang member were left in this room.

"Lukas, get the door!" Mathias shouted, somehow able to asses the situation from underneath two other men.

The Norwegian leapt at the door to lock and barricade it, and Berwald aimed at the final two opponents. When it fired, however, there was just an anticlimactic click.

Out of bullets. Damn.

He threw it to the side and charge instead, grabbing the taller gang member as he turned to face him. He threw a mean hook into the side of his head, worsening his headache and dizziness, but he was on a massive dose of adrenaline already, and so wasn't knocked off balance as much as he probably should have been. Instead, he pulled the man in and kneed him as hard as he could in the stomach, pushing his shoulders down into the impact. He heard him wheeze, but came up with speed to uppercut him.

That knocked him down.

He saw stars and felt the sharp, burning pain from where he had bit his tongue, and the wound to his shoulder was sapping his strength.

The man advanced on him after retrieving his gun, which he had dropped during their engagement. Berwald looked up at him from the floor, glaring hard. Like sheep to the fucking slaughter, his leader would cause the demise of them all, and the man above him was choosing not to see it.

"Coward." He spat at him.

He didn't look like he was going to respond, but before he fired, Lukas let out a short, clipped scream and they both turned just in time to see the Norwegian fire the pistol he had grabbed from one of the dead gang members' belts.

The man above him staggered back, grasping his stomach before he tried to raise his weapon on an adrenaline rush, aiming to take Lukas down with him. But Lukas yelled again, and fired several more times without aiming, and the sudden action won. The man slumped down to the floor, brain matter splattering over the controls.

The only gang member left alive in the room now was their leader. Berwald got to his feet and turned just in time to see the man standing as well, Mathias lying still and motionless on the ground.

"You will not stop me!" he cried out, his voice hoarse and bruises forming from where Mathias had tried to strangle him.

The man lunged for the controls, smashing a few buttons before Berwald grabbed him and dragged him to the floor, crunching broken injection vials as he did so. He held him there while Lukas shot him in the face, and they both took a second to close their eyes against the gore.

Only a second, however, because then they heard the noise.

"No!" Tino cried. "The door!"

"Close it!" Lukas shouted, and then moved to the control panel, immediately working the controls to undo what the dead gang had been trying to accomplish.

But it was too late. Berwald knew it. The creatures would be inside the complex now. They would smell the blood.

They heard gunshots below, and Berwald's heart lifted to a small degree. At least they weren't totally defenseless down there. But they would need all the support they could get.

"We need to get out of here, they'll come for the bodies,"

Lukas looked over towards Mathias' body lying face down beneath the window.

Tino was behind him with Emil, who was still covering his eyes against the bloody scene, and pushed him out of the room forcibly. Berwald looked back at him once, too. Was this redemption?

He didn't know. All he knew was that he hurt, and that he was afraid. And that he wished, feeling superseding reason, that Mathias would have been there to stand next to him for what was to come.

They exited the small room after collecting any useable weapons. Lukas left the last vial of cure behind.

Beyond the doorway, they entered into an impossibly worse scene. Screaming and hissing and gurgling; those below were fighting in a mad panic, gunshots firing wildly and those without range weapons swinging anything they could to fight back the monsters that would occasionally break through the ranks to drag a fighter down in a horrific mess of blood and dark claws.

They needed help.

"We have to get down there," Tino muttered, squinting hard.

Berwald shook his head. They had to be smarter than that. A curious idea crossed his mind and he looked back to the room. He wondered if that damn elixir really was a cure…

Lukas watched his eyes and followed his thought easily enough.

"The medicine, it's all over the floor, and with all that glass," but then his eyes took on a look of horror, already pale from the blood-loss. "We can't! We can't use his body a-as bait!"

The tall Swede bit his tongue against saying anything. He had been trying to block this from his mind. Alright.

"Alright, let's move him, and then we'll set the trap." Berwald moved into the room without waiting for the others.

He would be the only one who could lift him, even with a bullet wound in his shoulder.

The room was a nightmarish landscape that made him feel rather as though he was dreaming, but he focused on the body facedown in the far corner. Trying to only focus on the task at hand, he grasped the clothes on his back and pulled him closer, then grabbed his arm to hoist him up onto his back.

To his immense relief, so great he nearly fell over, he heard him groan.

"He's alive!" he shouted automatically to the others.

The others returned, Lukas moving to his side to lift and inspect Mathias' face. "He needs a shot! Now! Hurry!"

Tino scrambled behind him, running to the console desk where Lukas had left the last injection. He grasped it and passed it to Lukas, but a noise at the door caused another shot sharp bursts of hot adrenaline to shoot through his tired veins.

The creatures had smelt out the blood. It had only been a matter of time.

Berwald didn't have a choice, he dropped the half-dead Dane on the ground and lifted his gun. The creature was not focused on him, however, and he looked up just in time to see Lukas go down in a single motion, a black mass above him. Something glass clattered to the ground, but the sound was muffled by Berwald's gunshot. The creature didn't die, but it flipped off of the Norwegian and writhed on its back like a dying lizard.

Lukas leapt to his feet and they both fell still to watch. The creature was slicing its skin on shards, and so absorbing the cure concoction.

It hissed and gurgled, and fell limp and still after only a few seconds.

Perhaps it would work…

"I got it," Tino appeared, breathless and holding the syringe that Lukas had dropped, somehow still intact.

Lukas didn't hesitate before he grabbed it and stabbed Mathias, who was half lying on his side, in the chest near the bite and emptied the contents into his body. Berwald hardly left him time to remove the needle before he lifted him painfully back onto his shoulders. They could not afford to spend any more time in this room.

Tino took Emil back towards their hiding place, while Berwald crouched with his back to the wall, gun aimed at the door. He could see Lukas standing alone in the room, and nodded once before brining his hand down on the console and running as fast as he could.

The siren blared once more as the Norwegian hit against the wall, covering his ears. For his part, Berwald was certain he was going into some measure of shock, as the sound somehow sounded as though his head were underwater. The wound in his shoulder was slowly beginning to draw more and more of his attention, and that was dangerous.

The horrible noise deafened them again, but did its job better than Berwald could have hoped. Black smudges flew across their vision, moving up the walkway into the room. They hissed and roared, and there was a horrible sound of feeding. Berwald shuttered to think he had nearly left Mathias, still living, to such a fate.

They waited until the sounds of battle below had subsided as much as they dared to wait for, and then the two nodded to each other, and moved in unison. Lukas grabbed the door and slammed it shut, holding it shut while Berwald moved around to the far side of the wall, aiming at the dark, seething shadows through the window.

He fired in rapid succession, but was aware that many of them were not upright. The small cuts from the glass shards and the vast amount of medicine on the floor was hurting them somehow. He would have to find out more about that if they survived this whole thing. It didn't seem to be a "cure" quite like they thought, he observed, but it killed quickly and efficiently. And since Emil and Mathias were apparently still alive, it somehow didn't hurt humans in such a way.

When the room fell silent, Berwald waited only a moment before moving back to Lukas by the door. They didn't dare open it yet. Not yet.

They turned to look below, and Berwald was relieved to see that the situation appeared to be under control. The security personnel had appeared and were creating a human barrier between the unarmed and anything else hostile left alive.

Berwald let out a breath and noticed that it was becoming easier to see. They had fought through and so survived the night.

He looked to Lukas with a tried relief, but felt it turn cold in his stomach when he saw the Norwegians eyes widen and shift to look behind him. He didn't hear the creature, didn't feel it's bite into his neck and shoulder. He didn't even feel the cold stone bit his knees as he fell. All he felt was an impossible weight above him, pressing him down into darkness.

He had spoken too soon; he succumbed to the dark silence enveloping his senses.

* * *

When he awoke, it was because a bright ray of sunlight had come to splash upon his face. Berwald groaned, and tried to move away from it.

"Easy, you're still healing," a soft voice spoke, a gentle hand stilling his shoulder.

Slowly, he willed himself to open his eyes.

Tino, outlined in golden, angelic rays sat beside him, smiling softly.

Was this heaven?

He tried to move again and felt a searing pain in his shoulder going up through his neck and ending by pulsing painfully in his head.

No, evidently, this was not.

Tino stilled him again, resting a cool, soft hand on his forehead and he relaxed. It might not have been heaven, but it was good enough.

"Is he awake?"

Another voice reached his ears and sudden, overwhelming joy warmed his aching chest when he recognized Mathias. That son of a bitch survived, somehow.

"Shh," Tino hushed softly, not turning to look up at the Dane.

Mathias approached them slowly, coming into Berwald's range of vision and stood in front of the window, bathing himself in the golden halo as well. They looked at each other through calm eyes.

"You look like shit." Mathias finally said, smiling kindly.

Berwald couldn't help it, he grinned.

"So do you," He huffed at him, but it wasn't true.

Mathias had gotten closer to death than he had ever seen anyone. And that bastard had the nerve to have so much color in his cheeks after all they had been through.

They were silent a little longer. Berwald scooted himself up further on the bed, looking around the large room. Tino and Mathias both came to sit on the bed and he sat up a bit more so they could look more evenly at each other. Lukas appeared in the doorway some time later and paused for a while before he entered. But when he did, he walked straight to the bed and sat down beside them, as though he had been there all along. He looked the worst; his eye was still blackened and the flesh was turning yellow with healing around the edges of the darkness, and he was sporting a few shallow cuts and a split lip. They shifted around each other carefully; they were all pretty banged up, after all.

"What happened?" Berwald finally ventured to ask.

"You were bitten," Tino said softly, gesturing to the painfully tight bandages across his neck, chest, and shoulder.

"Vash and his team cleaned up the rest of everything that got in, but we still can't open the gates," Mathias sighed, folding his arms and then rubbed his eyes. "But, there's-...those things did a lot of damage,"

Berwald closed his eyes briefly, only able to imagine how many people they might have lost to the attack. He reopened his eyes when he realized that someone was missing who had been with them before.

"Emil survived," Tino said quickly, feeling him tense. "He's still sleeping in the other room. He's going to be just fine."

They all lapsed into silence again.

So Mathias survived...what now?

He risked a glance up and found Mathias looking out the window, smiling. But it was an empty, hollow smile. The smile of someone who had touched death. The Dane was so beautiful, but so broken. And as much as he caused his heart to stir when their eyes met, he caused it to stir with fear. He was dangerous.

"Look," Mathias finally spoke, turning from the window to look back at their small congregation. "There's no way I can answer for what I've done,"

Tino and Lukas looked down, but Berwald just continued to frown.

Not really off to a great start.

"But, I don't want to abandon anyone now. I want to help," he said, meeting and holding Berwald's eyes, as they were the only ones looking up.

He shifted a little, wincing in pain. The sharp bolts hurt his heart, as each throb reminded him endlessly that this was all Mathias' fault. He didn't want it to be, but there was no changing these facts. He wouldn't bow his head like Lukas and Tino; Mathias needed to be confronted.

"Mat," Tino whispered suddenly, surprising them both. "You're sick,"

Lukas made a strange noise, like a strangled whimper, and though he didn't lift his head it brought attention to his obvious injuries.

Mathias looked away. He knew, obviously. But what did that mean? What could they do?

"But maybe," Tino looked up to Berwald, hope in his soft, purple eyes. "We can help you,"

Berwald's eyebrows shot up. He wasn't about to pretend he was qualified to help Mathias. He didn't even really know what the hell was wrong with him. For Christ's sake what if he made it worse? What if they tried to kill each other again? He wasn't a fucking therapist.

"Tino, I-"

"Just, hear me out," the small Finn held up his hand. "I think you can help him,"

Mathias looked just as confused, his brow furrowed in confusion and probably guilt. It better have been guilt.

"Since you got here, he's had someone to talk to, someone who knows what it was like, and I think it's helping," Tino continued, meeting Lukas' eyes when he looked up.

Berwald was hardly convinced, and winced when he lifted his hand to rub his temple. He didn't want to be responsible for this. But what were their options? Mathias chewed his lips, but wasn't offering up anything else.

The way he saw it, he could either leave them to rebuild and resume his life in solidarity, perhaps with Tino, perhaps not. Or, he could stay. He could have groaned. If he stayed now, he would be responsible for Mathias' sanity? To heal him somehow? To make sure he never hurt anyone else?

Would he have to follow him around like a body guard that protected the population of the settlement from Mathias? To tackle him if he looked like he was about to go into another episode of insanity?

Tino had said someone to talk to. Berwald didn't think just talking would be all Mathias needed, but...he understood. He had been drawn out from his own form of reclusive madness when he had met the Dane. The fire in those eyes had brought him back in a way no one else could have. And it was different with Mathias than with anyone else. They had all been through shit, but Mathias had been through the same shit. He understood him. Maybe, that would be enough.

It was all he had to offer, anyway.

The two men looked at each other, scarred and unshaven. They were getting to damn old for this, anyway.

"I can't promise anything," was the only safe thing Berwald could think to say.

Lukas lifted his head to look at Mathias, and the Dane nodded. He wouldn't demand a promise of him now. He didn't deserve a promise. But Berwald wasn't leaving them at his mercy just yet. There was work to do, anyway.

* * *

"The well is contaminated?" Mathias asked, rubbing his face in exhaustion.

"We don't know. No one has gone down there. We haven't dared to open the door yet." Vash answered.

Berwald could already tell what was going to happen and was already slinging his rifle on his shoulder before Mathias spoke.

"We need to investigate. Berwald, you can I can go down and check on the well. Vash, have your troops standby and we'll open the door together."

They headed down to their third well. The other two would take care of their needs for a long time, but they would eventually need to go down and check the waters. There was a soft alarm sounded, warning people of the potential trouble and gunfire, and they headed to the vault that sealed the third well.

"On three." Mathias said. "One, two…three!"

The great door was thrown open, and they all trained their rifles on the darkness.

Nothing.

Vash knocked loudly on the metal door, trying to draw out anything living below. It distantly reminded Berwald of the gang he had encountered just before he arrived here. He shook away the thought.

When nothing emerged from the darkness after a few minutes, Mathias nodded to him and began moving forward. The tunnel down was lit by thin lights, but the bright sun caused too much contrast to see very far down. They had only gone a few feet into the tunnel, however, where there was a sound behind them that caused them both to jump.

Vash had given an order, and the vault door was being shut behind them.

"No!" Mathias roared as he ran futilely back, trying to get to the door before they could lock them in. "Vash! You son of a bitch!"

Berwald could do nothing but close his eyes, not wanting to see the door seal shut. But he heard it anyway, and the horrible sound of clinked echoed through the tunnel as they were sealed underground. They had not been sent down to investigate a well; Mathias had been sent down into his tomb.

That nine-fingered son of a bitch.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** There are character deaths in this scene, and probably in future scenes. Reader discretion is advised.

* * *

The green-eyed man said nothing, just glared at them coldly as the door was shut and locked. Mathias reached it and pounded his fists on it for a while, shouting curses and threats until the dust kicked up by the sealing of the door caused him to cough.

He coughed while Berwald sighed into the dimly lit cavernous tunnel a few feet behind him.

There was nothing wrong with the water in this well; this place was meant to be Mathias' tomb. His punishment for those who suffered because of his madness. Berwald just wished he hadn't been sealed in here with him.

Mathias was their leader; he was held responsible for all of those people who died. And Berwald agreed that he _was_ responsible, but he didn't know exactly what that mean. He didn't know if it justified locking him in this tunnel to die, but he knew for damn sure he didn't think it was right that he would be locked down here to die with him. But if the people demanded vengeance, he also knew that Vash's group would either have to give it to them, or risk a mob taking their grief into their own hands.

Mathias slid to his knees, pressing his forehead against the door.

"That…son of a bitch," he panted.

Berwald just stood, staring at his boot. His new boots. They were already pretty scuffed up, after all they had already seen a lot. He had liked these boots. And now he was going to die in Mathias' tomb. Damn it all to hell.

"Ber," he muttered after an undeterminable amount of time.

He didn't answer, but he also didn't tell him to shut up.

"Ber I'm sorry."

He breathed heavily through his nose. "Yeah, you said that already."

The words came out harsh and sharp, but he was far more willing to die with his arms folding facing away from him than use their mutual death as a reason to make up.

"Sometimes, it's just too much," he continued predictably.

Berwald sighed and walked to on side of the wall, sitting down. If Mathias had something to say, it probably didn't matter if he spoke back or not. So, he opted to just sit and listen.

"Sometimes all I can see are the faces of my family…my friends…everyone who I let down." He kept his head pressed firmly against the door, but his shoulders sagged noticeably. "I just wanted to protect them. I wanted to keep them save. And it was all my fault. Everything that happened to them. Everyone who died."

He wasn't going to argue with any of that, so he continued to listen.

"It all just got so bad so fast, I couldn't trust anyone. Everyone was always killing, always planning, always leaving people for dead. Even when we got this place set up, people were whispering and planning," He sat back finally, pulling away from the door to rest his back against the opposite wall. "And then you came,"

Berwald arched and eyebrow as they were now looking at each other.

"I knew it, I knew it right when I saw you," his eyes were watery and their bright blue color was shining even in the weak light. "I knew that I could trust you."

As angry as he was, he broke his gaze to look down at his boots again.

Mathias was charming when he was in a good mood, this was true. But it was more than that. That one night they had shared together had broken open a weak spot in his shielded heart, and apparently that was all it took.

"Ber, I don't want it to be like this anymore," he whispered, his voice breaking.

It wouldn't be like this for much longer, Berwald thought morbidly to himself. They would starve to death and it would be someone else's problem after that.

Mathias covered his face, breathing heavily. Sensing his thought, perhaps.

They waited in silence for a time, thinking dark thoughts to themselves.

"I'm sorry for dragging you down here with me," Mathias apologized, looking at him over his gloved hands as they were laced together in front of his face. "I didn't mean to get you killed."

"That's almost all you've done to me," Berwald pointed out.

Mathias looked away, furrowing his eyebrows in hurt. "You were leaving, and you were going to take Tino and Lukas away. I didn't want any of you guys going out there. I just, panicked."

"They have every right to do as they please," Berwald defended. "And so do I. We aren't your prisoners."

"That's not what I meant!" he shouted loudly at him, but Berwald was hardly afraid of the Dane when he yelled; he was considerably bigger than Tino and Lukas, after all. "I just wanted to keep you all safe."

"But what you want is not more important that what anyone else wants." Berwald snapped at him.

"So, what do you want, then?" he demanded. "To leave? To go out and die in the wasteland and just give up?"

"Not choosing to stay and according to _your_ vision doesn't mean I've given up!"

"Focusing on nothing but yourself does! What's the point, Berwald? What's the god damned point of going out there and trying to survive? All you're going to do is die and nothing you've ever done will have meant anything!"

"Nothing will have meant anything anyway!" he defending himself cynically. "Whether you can keep a generation or two alive doesn't matter. Things are never going to get better and things are never going to go back to the way they were. We're all going to die and it will all have meant nothing."

The weight of his words hit Mathias harder than he meant. He could clearly see the horror and hopelessness that caused his shoulders to fall in defeat. Maybe that was what was getting to Mathias more than the trauma. The fact that, in the end, it all meant nothing.

He made a strange sound, perhaps a whispered cursed, before running his hands into his hair and gripping the wild blond strands in tight fists. He seemed to be struggling to breathe.

A part of Berwald's heart went out to him. Especially as a soldier, it had been drilled into him all his life that there was something bigger than him. God. Fate. Whatever. He had never really believed in these things, but it was easy to see why others took comfort in the idea.

When Mathias began to cry quietly, still clutching at his hair in distress, Berwald took a breath and moved, crossing the tunnel to sit beside him. He wasn't about to lie to him; he wasn't going to take back what he said because it was upsetting. But, since he probably couldn't make it worse at this point, he decided to keep talking.

Cautious of how easily Mathias could flip to violence, Berwald settled himself on the ground next to him and put and arm around his shoulders. To his surprise, Mathias conceded immediately and crumpled into his chest.

"Mat, I know you're upset." He began slowly. "But, ya can't try to control other people. If rebuilding a society seems like the best use of your time, then do it. But ya can't force people to stay and do it with you. If people choose to help you, fine. But if not, you gotta let them go figure it out on their own."

Mathias took a few shuttering breaths, and Berwald could feel his muscles tense and relax under his hand. He knew he was right.

"I just wanted to protect everyone," he muttered again. "Everything was happening so fast. If you were outside the walls, there was no way you could survive out here,"

"Look, our choices are all we have. You can't take that from someone, not even if you think it's for their own good." Berwald said more firmly. "Letting people decide is the right thing to do."

The Dane's body went limp as he rested in his arms. Berwald held on to him, abstaining from mentioning that none of this mattered now since they were sealed in this damned tunnel and left for dead.

They stayed like that for a time. Just listening to each other's measured breaths in the dimly lit tunnel. Berwald decided not to entertain the ominous thoughts of dying of suffocation or starvation down here, so he opted to instead just experience the warmth of the man leaning against his chest and the softness of his hair.

"I'm sorry," he muttered after some time and Berwald frowned a little.

"Stop saying that." He berated him.

"What else should I say?"

"What about 'thank you'?"

A soft, amused breath escaped him as he sat back to face him. "Thank you, Ber. Really."

Their eyes met in the dim light and Mathias' lips twitched like he wanted to say something else, or perhaps kiss him, but a sudden smell reached Berwald's nose and a horrible terror crawled up his spine, causing every one of his hairs to stand on end.

They had bigger problems than starving.

"Mat," he said, his voice rising and shattering whatever mood had existed before. "This…this is bad,"

"What-?" Mathias turned, standing quickly when he picked up on the fear in his voice.

Now that their eyes had adjusted, they were able to see much further down the tunnel. Lying at the bottom, in a morbid heap, were the bodies of those they had lost to the attack. This was a mass grave. Berwald scrambled to his feet as they backed away closer to the door.

"Oh god," the Dane clamped his hand over his mouth.

The dark mass piled only yards from them told the story of just how many people had fallen to the gang's plot. He had no idea how long the gang must have stalked the settlement, just waiting for their opportunity to attack. And it had paid off.

"Something's moving," he whispered, drawing and aiming his gun.

Berwald's shoulder ached as he lifted his rifle, but he clutched it tightly in fear.

He had heard it, too.

There was a strange hiss, and then something began to shutter beneath the bodies, writhing its way out.

"No, please, no," Mathias gasped.

But it was too dark for Berwald to tell what he was seeing. Until it got closer.

The Dane was shaking so hard he doubted that he could hit it even if he fired. Berwald trained his gun on the figure that was crawling unnaturally towards them, and when it passed out of the shadows and into the reach of one of the few lights in front of them, he understood what had petrified Mathias.

It was the green-eyed girl who had bashed his skull in with that damned frying pan when he had first arrived.

She was hardly human now; her skin was impossibly grey and her body moved in an awkward way, as though her bones were broken in several places. She was covered in opened wounds that no longer bled, and even from a distance he could see the bite marks that covered her body.

"Elizabeta," he whispered and ran to her before slipped to his knees, dropping his gun beside him.

Berwald didn't take his eyes off of her, not trusting what he was seeing. Was she truly turning into one of those creatures because of the bite wounds? He took a few hesitant steps closer.

"Mat," she spoke in a hiss, hardly able to form words, reaching out a hand that looked misshapen and claw-like.

He struggled forward to meet her and every fiber in Berwald's being screamed against it. If it was true, if the bites infected them with whatever caused the mutations, then it was too dangerous to touch her. Nonetheless, Mathias pulled her into his arms and held her.

"Liz," he said in a whisper, his voice choked as his eyes welled with tears. "Why? Why didn't they save you?"

"Listen," she grunted, in obvious pain. "Vash, you have to stop him, he—"

She let out a strange, strangled screeching noise that echoed off the walls around them.

"What?" he asked desperately, holding her tighter.

"Please, _please_ , kill me," she begged. "I don't want to, to turn, please Mat,"

He nodded but shook her a little. "I will, I swear I won't let you. But what about Vash? Stop him from doing what?"

She closed her eyes in pain and Berwald stepped a little closer. From where he now stood, he could clearly see the deformities. It looked like black, boney tumors were growing on different parts of her body, changing her form.

"He…he wants to leave the settlement. He's going to poison the wells, to make the people think they have to leave. Then, he's going to kill anyone who can't keep up," she explained through labored breaths, reopening her eyes. "I didn't want him to; told him it wasn't right. That's why he left me down here."

Her eyes were changing. Their beautiful clear, green color was fading and the whites of her eyes were turning a bloody red against the lifeless grey skin of her face.

"That bastard," he growled but his eyes turned from anger to terror as she began to seize in his arms.

"Mat, please, I don't have much longer," she cried, but already her voice was nearly unrecognizable and her body seemed to morph with each spasm.

Berwald was so terrified that when Mathias grabbed his pistol from the ground beside him and fired, he nearly dropped his rifle to cover his ears.

The creature, once Elizabeta, gurgled softly as black ooze and blood mixed together beside Mathias' knees. He bowed his head and his body trembled as he tried to get control of his emotions.

For his part, the Swede looked around the tunnel again, making sure they were now the only things living down here. Nothing else moved. But if the water hadn't been contaminated before, he knew it certainly would be now. The corpse pile contained the bodies of humans and creatures, and their vile blood would poison the water.

If Vash was going to kill those fit to survive in the wasteland he would have to kill half of the people left, which was hardly enough to form a sizable gang anyway. Maybe Mathias wasn't the craziest bastard in this complex after all.

"We have to get out of here," Mathias stood, wiping his eyes and lifting his gun.

Berwald absently noticed that he had folded Elizabeta's misshapen arms over her chest in some semblance of dignity.

But, what did it matter? They weren't exactly trapped down here for lack of motivation. He would have wanted to escape whether or not others' lives were at stake. Their lives were already in danger.

"Do you have a plan?" Berwald asked, already annoyed at him again.

He paused, his eyes darting back and forth as his mind raced through scenarios. It ended when he ran his hand through his hair and cried out in frustration, turning and walking a few feet away from him.

"What about guns? Can we shoot through the door?" Berwald asked.

Mathias shook his head. "No. It's too thick."

They both stared at their only exit.

"What about the wall?" Berwald asked after a minute.

"What?" he asked, turning to him.

"If we can't get through the door, we might be able to get through the stone," he pointed out.

The reinforced door was impenetrable, but this cave had obviously not been formed naturally, which meant they could probably get through the wall just to the side of the door. Mathias' eyes widened as he followed his train of thought.

"Yeah," he muttered. "That might just work,"

"Except," Berwald looked down at his rifle and then back at the corpse pile. "We'll need something stronger than our guns to break it down,"

They both nodded to each other before systematically combing the cave in search of anything they could use. There were remnants of some electrical equipment that had been used to put in the lighting system, but the tools were all far too small to be of any real use.

"Hey!" Mathias cried loudly, making him jump harshly in the echoey tunnel. "Check this out!"

Just on the other side of the bodies, before reaching the dark edge of the water, Mathias was crouching over a pile of tools that had been left off to one side, nearly hidden from view until he came up beside him.

"Jackpot," he breathed, very carefully brushing off the dust and dirt.

"What?" Berwald asked, unfamiliar with the packaging.

There was rope and some shovels, but even with those kinds of tools it would take ages to carve a hold through the stone that would be large enough for them to get out. But there were larger packages beneath the other equipment, and this is what Mathias seemed to be focus on.

"Dynamite."

His breath caught in his throat. Dynamite was hardly a stable explosive anyway, but after all these years he was amazed that it hadn't gone off just sitting here. He swallowed dryly before speaking.

"Can we use it? Have you ever done it before?" he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper with the weight of his anxiety.

Mathias shrugged. "Well, not me personally, but I was there when they were digging most of these. Here, help me move it."

"Are you crazy? That whole crate?" Berwald hissed.

"It's not full!" he shook his head. "Here, we'll put it by the door and use this to detonate it. We can even get in the water, for protection from the blast."

"That won't work if it brings the tunnel down on top of us," Berwald grumbled, but helped him to carefully lift the crate and haul it up to the door.

They walked slowly, painfully slowly, and Berwald could hardly breathe as they set it down.

"Okay, let's go," Mathias held the cord attached to the detonator carefully as they moved back down the sloping tunnel.

They walked carefully around the corpses before looking into the dark water. Somehow, that was almost more terrifying than the thought of detonating old dynamite in a sealed cave. But there was no way they could be certain of survival if they stayed above to take the blast head-on, so they nodded to each other and slowly slid in.

The water was cool, but not painfully cold. Still, the feeling of unknown depth beneath his swinging feet filled him with a terrible mortal dread that threatened to stop his heart in his chest. Not knowing what was below him in the inky blackness was somehow more terrifying than knowing that there was an explosive about to go off hardly seventy yards away from him.

"Ready?" Mathias asked, struggling to keep his mouth above water and hold the detonator.

Berwald nodded and took a deep breath, their eyes meeting for the briefest of moments before they both dived below.

For a sickening moment, nothing happened. And then a noise he could have never imagined. He hadn't even thought about hearing damage, but his whole body shook with the force of the explosion and even with his eyes wrenched shut, he saw white.

His lungs began to scream for air as soon as the noise subsided, but he waited as long as he could before he was forced to begin kicking his way back to the surface. His head broke the surface of the water, and he tried to suck in a breath, but mostly he found dust and smoke and was forced to swim to the edge of the water, choking hard as he tried to cover his mouth with his wet sleeve.

A splash behind him, and Mathias' coughing followed his. However, the world around them was now considerably brighter, even if they couldn't see much beyond the dust and the smoke. They both grasped each other to indicate they were alright, and then began moving quickly towards the entrance to the tunnel.

Or, what was left of it.

The door stood comically on its own while most of the wall and roof had been blasted away. Daylight poured in along with breathable air, and Mathias and Berwald ran forward to greet it. They were only allowed to experience the thrill of their victory for a moment, however.

They had broken through just in time to see the entire complex in an uproar. There was gunfire and screaming, but it was unclear exactly who was fighting whom for the first few moments that the two of them stood there, blinking stupidly in a daze.

"Up there!" Berwald shouted and pointed when he identified the heart of the conflict.

Lukas was fighting hand-to-hand against Vash, and while the ex-gang member was sporting blood on his face, their friend did not appear to be winning.

"Luke!" Mathias roared loudly, earning the attention of the entire complex.

Berwald swung his rifle up and around and aimed at the man who had tried to bury them alive and who had betrayed the green-eyed girl. He made sure they were looking at each other before he fired.

There was a loud cuss as Vash crumbled to the ground and Lukas took the opportunity to seize his gun and begin running around to the stairs in order to join them. Looking around, there were other gang members still engaged with members of the complex, but with a varying degree of intensity now that Vash was down.

Berwald did not see Tino or Emil, and could only hope they were somewhere safe. He did turn just in time to see the gardener, the titanic Russian, grab a man by the throat and launch him several feet. The man wheezed where he fell on his back and did not get up. Mathias raised a hand to him and he hoisted a metal water pipe that he had seized from the greenhouse.

At least they had him on their side.

"Mat!" Luke reached them, breathless and baring even more bruises than before. "It's Vash! He tried to—"

"I know, I know." He growled darkly. "Let's put an end to this. Ivan! How many?"

The Russian approached him, his aura dark and menacing though he offered a smile after seeing the two of them dripping wet and having blast their way out of the well. "Not many now. Vash counted for most of their numbers."

The four of them looked around as the fighting began to fall silent. There were not very many corpses lying around, but most of them were not the former gang members. Berwald's heart felt heavy. The remaining members of the failed coup surrendered their weapons as they were seized by those they had been fighting against, and some held up their hands as the knelt to the ground.

"Is Vash dead?" Mathias asked Lukas.

"I don't know," he shook his head.

"Let's go get him. If he is, then he and the rest of you traitorous bastards can be on your way." He said and then turned to shout around the complex.

Berwald didn't know if the creatures were still clawing at the outside walls, but he doubted that would keep Mathias from throwing them over. They began up the stairs, heading up to the wall where Lukas and Vash had been fighting.

"Mat, before you do anything, you might want to know," Lukas was speaking behind him, his voice trembling severely.

The Dane didn't stop marching up the steps. "What?"

"Tino…he tried to," he swallowed, and when Berwald glanced behind him at the injured Norwegian he saw tears welling in his eyes. "He tried to stop Vash,"

Mathias' body froze for only a moment before he began bounding up the stairs twice as fast.

Berwald's blood ran cold and his mouth felt dry. Vash didn't kill Tino…? Not Tino. He couldn't have. It was impossible. He was...he was so innocent.

The Dane was standing over the injured man, who was at least alive enough to try to squirm away. He grabbed him by his shirt and shook his back and forth, hitting him hard into the ground.

"Why? Why Vash? You stupid son of a bitch! How could you?" he screamed as he jerked him around violently.

Berwald saw that he had hit him through the back. The amount of blood running down his chest was indicative of an exit wound. He wouldn't survive a hit to the lungs like that. It was only a matter of time.

But, Berwald didn't care about answers. Answers wouldn't change the fact that what was done was done. All that was left to do was feed his corpse to the monsters he had left Elizabeta to become, and to destroy any who were still loyal to him.

The man on the ground gurgled an answer, blood spattering his lips as he spoke, but it was too muffled for Berwald to hear it. Mathias didn't seem to have any trouble though, and reeled back and punched him hard in the jaw.

He collapsed and Mathias stood.

He drew his pistol and Berwald looked over the edge to those watching from below, closing his eyes briefly when the shot was fired.

"Where is Tino?" Mathias was breathing heavily, his shoulders tight with anger.

Lukas bowed his head a little. "In your room, that's where I had told him to stay with Emil."

"Is Emil…?" his eyes widened with bright fear.

Lukas shook his head. "He's fine, he's safe. He escaped while…"

He trailed off because Mathias was already on his way and Berwald was right behind him. He had to see this. He couldn't believe that anyone, even Vash, could do something like that to sweet Tino.

They crossed the complex, Mathias screaming orders as he went and Berwald watched as they were obeyed by those who were left. Lukas followed behind him, but said nothing as they all silently entered the bar, crossed to the stairs, and ascended in single-file up to the top floor.

They reached Mathias' room, noticing that the doors hung awkwardly on their hinges after been wretched opened from the outside. Inside the room the dusty windows still let in that soft, angelic light, but the scene that it illuminated was hellish.

Tino was lying in a pool of his own blood, an arm weakly held over the wound to his stomach. The room showed obvious signs of a struggle, Tino hadn't given up without a fight, but Berwald couldn't help but wonder if it had all been to give Emil time to escape.

"Tino," Mathias skidded to his knees beside him, placing a hand on his face.

To their surprise, he groaned softly.

Berwald quickly moved to his other side, kneeling and setting his rifle down. Tino's purple eyes opened, but seemed to have a hard time finding either of them.

"Ber?" he called, lifting his bloody hand weakly.

Berwald grasped his small hand in both of his, squeezing it tightly. "Tino, I'm here, we're all here,"

Lukas moved to kneel by his head and the three of them exchanged a look a despair. Stomach wounds were tricky, even with proper equipment. And he knew they didn't. There was nothing they could do for him.

"Oh good," Tino breathed shallow breaths. "And Vash?"

"We took care of him," Berwald answered quickly before Mathias could say anything. "Everything is going to be okay now,"

"I tried to stop him," Tino continued anyway. "After he locked you two down there, he tried to convince everyone that we had to leave."

"I'm so sorry Tino," Mathias said in a trembling voice.

His large eyes blinked slowly before they shifted over to the sound. "You're still a good leader Mat. A lot of people fought against him. We all wanted to rescue you."

The Dane stroked his cheek softly. "Oh Tino, you're so brave. I'm so sorry I let this happen to you,"

He closed his eyes and shook his head a little. "It's not your fault. Vash was planning this for a long time. I think he was like that other guy; he didn't want to rebuild. Not yet. Seeing that gang come through must have brought it all to the surface."

"Tino?" Berwald muttered, feeling his grip weaken.

"Just stay with me." He kept his eyes closed, his voice growing fainter. "I'm glad I get to see you again. I love you all."

Lukas moved to grab onto Mathias, burying his face into his arm as he sobbed. Mathias kept one hand on Tino's face, but covered his eyes with his other hand as tears streamed down his face.

Berwald couldn't believe that after everything he had seen something could still hurt this much. They had only met a short while ago, but he had been so kind and so trusting. He had been willing to spend the rest of his life with him surviving out in the wasteland beyond. He almost hadn't even needed to think about it.

"We love you too, Tino." Berwald said softly, bringing his hand to his lips.

He pressed a kiss to the skin, but it was already cold. Tino had lost a lot of blood before they had arrived, but even so, he could feel it as the last moments of the sweet Finn's life passed, and the pale light beyond the window seemed to vanish.

The three were left in a dim, cold room, each of their hearts breaking as they wept together.

* * *

The days were filled with morbid conversation. There were many bodies to deal with, and Vash had thrown most of them into their wells in an attempt to poison the water sources.

"We just might have to leave after all," Mathias rubbed his face as they sat together in Berwald's room.

Mathias' room was too difficult to go into right now, though the body had been removed there was still a large, dark stain on the wood floor. So, they gathered in Berwald's room by candle light.

"Do you know about any other wells in this area?" Berwald asked.

He rubbed his mouth, silent for a moment, but then nodded. "Yeah, there's some up in the mountains. But there's nothing to build with out there. I don't know how we could fortify it."

"We could send people out to collect water and bring it back," they paused as Lukas stirred where he had fallen asleep in Berwald's bed.

They waited for him to settle again before they continued speaking in a quieter tone.

"It's dangerous. There are other gangs out there," Mathias whispered. "And it would have to be often. There's a lot of risk in that."

"But what choice do we have?" Berwald pointed out. "They could take vehicles and weapons and go in small groups."

Mathias nodded slowly, sighing. "Alright, let's go meet with the others."

"Should we wake Luke up?" Berwald asked, turning to look at their sleeping companion, the small child curled up in his chest.

"No, let's let them sleep." Mathias said softly, standing gently and then stretching his long arms.

Berwald stood too and they exited the room quietly. The two of them walked down the stairs in silence, lost in thought. There was so many who had died since Berwald had arrived. People were doing their best to remove the bodies and wash away the blood quickly, but it was all stained with a horrible knowledge that this was still the same world Berwald had been walking in for years now. It was the hellish world they created.

They met up with the others in the bar area at the bottom of the stairwell. The room was big enough to hold all of them now.

Berwald felt sick as he looked around. There were so many bodies to be buried and Tino's should not have been among them.

Everyone looked up as they entered, their eyes trained on Mathias.

"The wells are no good," Ivan reported with a shake of his head. "Checked all of them."

"The closest water is three days out and back," Mathias told the room. "How many days do we have left in our stores?"

"Vash and his gang stored some up to bring with them. So probably a week's worth, considering." Someone else reported.

Berwald though Mathias might have introduced him as a welder, though he could no longer remember his name. There were black smudges on his face and arms and he wore a brown leather apron.

He nodded slowly. "The contaminants have been removed?"

Ivan nodded.

Berwald absently noticed that the item he was using as a cane was the same metal water pipe that he had been wielding as a weapon. There was still blood on it, as though he hadn't even bothered to clean it.

"We can begin pumping out the contaminated water," Ivan said. "But it will be long before I would trust it to be used for my plants. Longer still before I would drink it myself."

Mathias ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Yes. But, if we want to remain here we need access to water."

"We don't have any more explosives to dig a new well, so it will take a long time to do it by hand." He was the younger, dark haired man whom Mathias had purchased his boots from.

"What about a pipeline?" a woman sat in a chair near where the welder was standing; she was in charge of medical supplies and had been the one who created and manufactured the cure. "If the well is in the mountains, we could use it like an aqueduct and lead the water down to us."

"But we would have to build it, and it takes a day and a half just to get there," another person argued.

They sounded afraid.

Berwald tried to fathom building an aqueduct, but all he could call to memory were old Iraqi ruins. There was no way they could build anything like that. The monsters would attack their construction camps, and even if they managed to build them, the gangs would come just to destroy them again.

"An underground pipe?" Mathias asked, rubbing his chin. "That might be a project worth undertaking,"

"Either way, we should probably have someone scout that well out soon, to make sure the water is drinkable before we deplete the stores,"

Berwald nodded. That would be the smartest thing to do.

Mathias turned to look at him and he refrained from sighing. Yes, he would go with him to check out the damn water.

They had been bitten, shot at, locked underground and left to die, but their work was hardly over. Berwald's heart was heavy and his body was tired, but somehow leaving the settlement to go on this quest seemed far more appealing than resting here. The air of death hung over this place like a plague.

And there would probably be a plague, if they didn't figure out this water situation.

"We have to wait until the creatures clear out before we can let anyone out,"

"It'll be a while," Ivan muttered darkly. "They got a feast, after all."

Berwald cringed as his words.

Mathias just nodded and began to move towards the door. "Let's get some plans drawn up for a pipe; I'm open to anyone's ideas. In the mean time, start pumping the wells and let's figure out a new spot to dig anyway."

They all nodded as he left and Berwald followed him shortly.

"Where are we going?" Berwald asked as Mathias determinedly walked.

"To the control station," he said without looking at him. "I want to know what the situation is beyond the walls. We can't afford to wait very long."


	7. Chapter 7

They both looked over the wall with similar expressions.

The creatures were no longer clawing at their defenses now, but the signs they left behind were gruesome. There were deep gashes and blood smears much farther up the walls than Berwald was comfortable with.

"How long have they been gone?" Mathias asked the shorter man who was guarding the control room.

His voice was dark and untrusting.

"Only a few hours," he reported. "The last of the bodies were, disposed of this morning. Once that was over, they split up and left. They don't seem to like the sunlight much."

Mathias' lips curled into a sneer as he stared out the window, but he said nothing.

Berwald was no longer looking at the walls, however. He was looking around the room. It was impossibly clean; there were no shards of glass, or skull. Blood no longer coated the windows and controls, and the place he now stood was the same spot where they had nearly left Mathias for dead. The room smelt sterile.

He couldn't hear the conversation about the creatures any longer; more than anything he wanted to leave. He wanted to leave this room and he wanted to leave this complex.

No wonder Mathias was going crazy living here.

As his gaze turned from the spotless floor to Mathias, the Dane's eyes pinned on the shorter man he was speaking with, Berwald began to wonder if something like this had happened before. An uprising, or a coup, or something else that allowed those creatures inside the walls of the complex. The thought was chilling.

The Dane turned and began walking towards the door and Berwald automatically followed.

"God watch over you both," the man said softly as they exited.

Mathias didn't say anything in response, but Berwald didn't miss the way his jaw clenched. There was nothing left to watch over them now, not even a god. They had nuked him, too.

"Let's get out of here," Mathias growled as they crossed the complex with long, determined strides. "We need to cover as much ground as we can before nightfall."

Berwald nodded but didn't speak. If the creatures had only been gone for a few hours then they wouldn't be far, but Mathias seemed to think it was better to leave now while they had the daylight. He wouldn't argue; truth be told he didn't know anything about the creatures, except how fast they were and that they were attracted to any smell or sound.

Plans were made quickly and a vehicle was provisioned for them. Bullets, water, medicine kits. With any luck, they would be there and back within three days. After five, if they hadn't returned, Mathias told them they would need to send a second group.

Lukas appeared with Emil, waiting by the vehicle.

"We'll be back in a few days," Mathias said with a charming smile, the first he had seen that day.

"Mat," he said almost silently.

There was probably more he wanted to say, if the two of them had been alone. But almost half the complex was there to watch them send off. So, they just stared at each other for a tense moment.

They would open the gate only for as long as it would take them to exit the walls, and then they would be shut again. A soft alarm was sounded, and Mathias touched Lukas' cheek and kissed Emil on the head before hopping up into the driver's seat.

Berwald got in beside him, holding his rifle at the ready. Mathias barely glanced at him sideways before he started the machine and they moved towards the only exit. Berwald knew that the shorter man in the control station wouldn't open the doors if he had seen anything out there, but there was still a terrifying moment just before the entrance was opened.

Nothing entered but some dry wind and bright sun. The vehicle lurched forward and they left the complex in a cloud of dust. They were able to put some distance between them and the complex before they heard the door shut again, but after that Berwald felt that familiar feeling again. The feeling of being alone in the wastelands.

They rode in silence, watching the horizon for any sign of movement as they rumbled loudly onwards. Mathias' face was stony when he glanced over, and even in the heat, the air between them felt cold.

He was upset. Of course he was; Vash had betrayed him. Had left Elizabeta to turn. Had poisoned the wells and wanted to abandon the complex, everything Mathias had worked to build. He wondered if it was really like what Tino had said, if seeing that other gang had brought those beliefs back to the surface for Vash. He couldn't imagine believing in anything that insane, but it almost felt like he was on the minority side of it. These gangs were making sure of that. Making sure that everything stayed in a state of chaos.

And now Tino was gone, too. For the same stupid shit that had been killing people since this all started. Berwald sighed as he squinted off into the distance, trying to see through the water mirages. He didn't want to believe that people weren't meant to be together, but the evidence was stacking up. The only reason he was alive now was because he had chosen to go alone; only time would tell if trying to rebuild would get him killed.

* * *

The sun dipped low in the sky.

"What do you want to do?" Berwald finally asked over the loud engine.

Mathias still hadn't spoke a word the entire time and they needed to decide if they were going to try to continue driving through the night or stop to make a defensible camp.

The Dane turned his head only slightly. "Do you want to drive for a while?"

He stared at him, trying to catch his eyes so he could assess his mental state, but eventually he just nodded. "Yeah."

They swapped seats without stopping the vehicle, Mathias sliding back so he could take the wheel, and then moving over into the passenger seat.

Once this was done, Mathis took hold of his rifle and sat at the ready, scanning the area around them even in the dark. Berwald frowned; he was going to wear himself out this way.

"You get some sleep," he told him in his sternest voice.

Mathias looked at him, clutching that gun, and Berwald saw that crazy glint.

"It's okay," he tried to smile, but it only made it worse. "I couldn't never sleep very well out here anyway."

Berwald frowned seriously at him, but Mathias just sighed and settled into his position.

"…So, where is this well?"

He didn't know if more conversation would help, but no conversation was obviously letting old thoughts fester in Mathias' head. Berwald figured if they were talking then at least he could have an idea of what he was thinking.

"It's not really a well," Mathias explained. "It's a natural spring up in the mountains. It's not that far up, we were able to take the truck right up to it last time."

"When were you out here last?"

Mathias' eye twitched as his voice hitched.

Something bad _had_ happened. Berwald supposed he wasn't really surprised, but he was becoming increasingly anxious to find out exactly what it was.

"Shit, it's probably been over a year," he said and rubbed his face and neck. "We never needed to come out this far, so we didn't ever check on it. Mostly, I'm just hoping it's still there."

"How'd ya find it?"

Berwald was pushing his luck by pressing Mathias, but he needed to know. He needed Mathias to keep talking, and he needed an idea of what they would face when they got there. He didn't know what to expect; he hadn't seen mountains in what felt like ages. That's the first place he would have gone, if he had known where to find them. It was uncomfortable to think that he had been walking parallel to them all this time.

Mathias shook his head after waiting for a few long, silent minutes. "We were scouting around the complex. We had to do it a lot when we were deciding to set up there. We would try to go out and find what we could during the day, and then try to be headed back by night. You can't really hole up out here. If they smell you, they'll hunt you, and the sun won't change their minds."

"Is that what happened?" Berwald asked in a low tone, giving indication that he knew Mathias was speaking around something.

There was a balancing moment, a moment where Mathias decided between conceding to speak, and losing his temper. Berwald could only relax when he slumped against the seat with a sigh.

"Yeah. We had tried to make a shelter. We thought that if we dug down deep enough, they might not have been able to smell us."

Berwald's mouth twitched, but he listened.

"It didn't work, obviously, and they found us before the morning." He gripped his hair in a tight fist, breathing hard. "We had enlisted in the army together, so we had known each other for years before it all went down. And I…I just left him there."

A sick feeling moved in his stomach, but Berwald understood. Out here, there were no laws, no rules, nothing to go by except ruthlessness in the name of survival. But they were soldiers, that's not how they were trained. To leave someone behind led to a haunting guilt. Berwald had seen people fall to that madness, too.

"He was holding them off for me, he told me to do it. But I couldn't believe I actually did it…" Mathias' voice was barely audible over the engine. "I just can't forget…"

Berwald was aware that it was now his turn to talk, but he didn't know what to say. What could be said?

So instead, he held the wheel with his left hand and reached over with his right, finding Mathias' in the dark where it was gripping his gun. It took a moment before he was willing to release the weapon to grasp his hand, but when he did Berwald felt something warmer inside his chest.

Maybe they weren't so bad for each other.

"How much further do you think?" Berwald asked after a long stretch of silence.

Mathias still hadn't let go of his hand.

"A little ways, we'll have to slow down when we get to the mountains, it's a rougher terrain. The sun should be rising by then, so we'll be able to see."

He was feeling tired, much more tired than he normally would have been. Sleeping in that bed was making him soft.

Berwald stifled a yawn and Mathias smiled at him. "You tired, old man?"

"Shut up," he groused, but smiled as he looked out into the darkness.

There was little that they could see, and when their thoughts became too ominous, it was Mathias who began the conversation again.

"Is this really your first settlement?" Mathias asked, referring to their earlier conversation in the bar area.

"Of course not." Berwald said in a low tone, feeling his heart weigh heavily in his chest; he didn't want to think about it, but in a time like this, he figured he would pretty much talk about whatever Mathias wanted to.

He just wanted him to keep his head.

"What happened?" he ventured to press.

Berwald shook his head. "It…was still pretty soon after the first bombs. It was harder to find water that wasn't contaminated."

Mathias nodded solemnly beside him. "Was it very far north?"

"I think so…I've been heading south since then." He took a long moment before voicing his next thought. "It wasn't the conditions, it's what those kinds of conditions bring out in people. They tore each other apart. I never understood it, still don't."

"And that's why you don't want to get involved here," Mathias finished for him. "Because you're seeing us tear each other apart."

"Well, yeah," he glanced at him.

He didn't know if Mathias had expected him to deny it, to console him and lie, but he wasn't going to.

Mathias sighed heavily and looked away. "It doesn't have to be like this,"

"No, it doesn't," Berwald agreed.

"If people could just, agree on what's best," Mathias said slowly. "It wouldn't be like this. If they could just see,"

There he went again. Berwald shook his head.

"People are always going to be the main problem," he told him. "Just remember that."

"Well, maybe I don't think people are as hopeless as you do." Mathias said sourly.

Berwald glanced at him. "I didn't say I think people are hopeless,"

"But you do think that," Mathias said, leaning his head against the seat and looking away from him. "You've given up on people."

"I didn't say that!" He stressed again, frowning. "You're the one who said it. Twice."

He ignored him and instead shifted in his seat to face him.

"People are the only thing left worth a damn, don't you understand?" he insisted, resting the rifle against his shoulder so he could gesture vaguely with his hands.

"No one's arguing that," he snapped. "But you keep treating people like they aren't thinking things, I told you that already. You can't control everyone."

"I'm not trying to control everyone!" that shout made him cringe.

The engines were already loud enough, but it still wasn't wise to go screaming into the wilderness. At night.

"You are too," he lowered his voice in attempt to make Mathias follow. "And that's exactly why it isn't working,"

Mathias' mouth fell open and he winced as though he had been physically hurt. "It's…not,"

 _Fault._

Ah, shit. He wasn't exactly trying to say that it was Mathias' fault that people could be so cruel to each other. Some of the stuff was still his fault, yeah, but not human nature.

"Mat, look," he said when the Dane began to clutch at his hair again; he hadn't even realized that he had let go of his hand. "It's, uh, it's gonna be okay. We'll figure it out."

Mathias looked up at him. He looked miserable. "Do ya think-"

He was cut off when they hit a sudden bump that threw both of them up in their seats. Mathias nearly fired his rifle in surprise, and Berwald clutched at the wheel with both hands, letting off the gas as they entered a far rockier terrain.

"Whoa," he gasped, slowing down and shining the headlights at the sudden, steep incline directly ahead of them.

They both stared with wide eyes. If they had been going any faster, they might have just rammed into it. That would have been bad.

"Which way?" Berwald asked, his heart still pounding in his chest.

Mathias looked around, and then stood up in his seat, holding onto the roll bar to get a better look. "We need to go further north, we must have drifted."

Berwald waited for his companion to sit down before he brought the vehicle to the left and they began heading northwards.

"Do ya think we're very far out now?" Berwald asked in a quieter voice.

The hair on the back of his neck was beginning to stand up and he pulled further away from the rocky incline. He didn't like the idea of something being above them.

"Nah, not now. We're going to be getting close. We must have been going faster than I thought," he frowned, sitting with his rifle in his hands, squinting ahead into the darkness.

Berwald felt a strange fear grip him. He hadn't considered the possibility that Mathias had no idea where the hell he was going. Still, the rumbled on at his direction for a little while longer, before Mathias offered him the rifle.

"Here, let me drive. This is familiar now, I think I can take us up the rest of the way."

They swapped places again and Berwald took up his gun, settling Mathias' where he could grab it quickly if needed. He clutched the cold metal, feeling his shoulder ache. He hoped he wouldn't have to fire it, but tried to suppress that thought. There could be no reason for him to hesitate. Hesitation got people killed out here.

They began up into less level ground, pulling their weight more towards the backs of their seats. Berwald felt more vulnerable in this way, but the dawn was drawing near, and the sky was finally beginning to lighten. That would be their biggest help.

They hardly spoke on the way up. There were too many hiding spots now, it was too unnerving. Those things blended right in with shadows, and Berwald needed glasses as it was. So, Mathias watched the road and Berwald watched everything else, rifle clutched tight.

It only got worse as they had to go slower and slower, Mathias struggling to find the way even as the light grew brighter and they eventually were able to see into the dark shadows cast by the rocky mountainside. They reached the top of a rocky hill and Mathias killed the engine. Berwald didn't like that.

"It's down there, we can bring the canteens and go check it out," Mathias said, grabbing his rifle.

"Are you sure you don't want to leave the engine running?" Berwald asked, looking around uncomfortably.

"We wouldn't be able to hear anything," Mathias pointed out.

Berwald frowned but follow his lead and grabbed one of the large plastic jugs they would use to gather the water from the spring. They moved slowly, Mathias leading the way forward as Berwald watched their rear.

There were no sounds other than the chirping of a few insects. Berwald appreciated that the brush that surrounded this area was so dry, it would sound like an alarm if anything larger approached. If creatures did find them, however, they wouldn't have long to get back to the vehicle.

"Here, do you hear it?" Mathias called quietly as they moved down into an area sheltered by the larger mountainside.

Berwald turned his head and caught the sound of bubbling water. Relief washed over him. At least Mathias hadn't gotten them lost up the side of some godforsaken mountain.

They climbed down a steeper part of the rock and were presented with the gladdest sight Berwald had seen in a long time. Water, filtered by the rocks above it was trickling through. Mathias looked at him with a far calmer look in his eyes.

"We'll gather it here and treat it when we get back." He dipped his fingers into it for a moment before uncapping his large container. "It's good that it's still here."

"It looks clean," Berwald observed optimistically, turning to watch the entrance while Mathias knelt to collect the water.

"Yeah," he said happily and then lifted the full container, resealing it before trading Berwald for the empty one.

The Swede stood with his gun, watching the path warily as Mathias filled the next jug. They had four more after this. He didn't want to spend any more time out here than that.

"You know, we always had plans to start mapping this whole area," Mathias said casually.

Berwald frowned. He didn't really want to make conversation; the quieter they could be, the better. But he figured Mathias must have been trying to soothe himself, so he indulged him.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, we scouted all this out, so we've got some rough maps, but we thought that when those things started to die off we'd be able to send more people out." He explained, his biceps straining to hold the large container as it filled with clear water.

Berwald swallowed, realizing how dry his throat was. "Die off?"

"They don't live for every long," he shook his head and then grimaced. "Or, they didn't used to. Once someone was infected, they would turn within a day or two, and then they only lived for a few weeks."

"How do you know that?" he asked, honestly curious, but feeling something ominous behind this story.

Just as he thought, Mathias lingered before speaking. He lifted the heavy container and recapped it, and then they hauled them back up to the truck, watching and listening for any sign that they might not have been alone. They loaded up the plastic jugs and grabbed another set of containers each, heading back down in silence.

Berwald wondered if Mathias was hoping he would just drop the subject, but he didn't have anything else to talk about anyway, so he waited.

After only a short time, the silence got the better of the talkative Dane.

"This wasn't my first settlement, either." He confessed, his voice grim. "The last guy I was following was obsessed with knowing. He wanted to learn about everything, about the new weather patterns, about what kind of contaminates were getting into different bodies of water, about the creatures that started appearing…"

Berwald raised his eyebrows; that sounded reasonable, but Mathias' tone indicated that it wasn't that simple.

"He would catch them and watch them," he went on. "He had a room that had been a bank vault that he could watch them in. After a few weeks, they would always die, even if they were…fed."

Berwald moved the full container out of the way when Mathias sealed it and began on the next one, but didn't speak. He had a sick feeling in his stomach. He knew where this was going.

"His interest in them led to, experimentation." Each word was coming slower than the last, and Mathias' was gripped the containers so tightly he was starting to crunch the plastic at the handles. "That's how we found the cure. But, when the others found out what he had done…well, a few of us went on our own, and when we set up shop at the complex, wasn't just to protect people from creatures and the elements. That's been my promise; people first. Always. No matter what."

Berwald looked down. He had almost said 'except me', referring to how he had asked Lukas to shoot him. But he was a stranger, he wasn't one of them. It was okay to shoot him.

"It's easy to lose sight of things, when things are going to shit, I suppose." He mumbled instead, lifting the filled container as they hauled the second set back to the truck.

"Well, things have been shit for long enough. I think it's time things started getting better." Mathias grunted, heaving the containers up on the truck.

Berwald just took a moment to glance up at the sky. Couldn't even remember what damn color it had been back then.

When things were better…

He couldn't remember anymore.

* * *

They had loaded up the last of the water onto the truck as the sun climbed up into the sky. Berwald was getting ready to get back into the vehicle, but noticed that Mathias was just standing back with his hands on his hips like a moron.

"Are you comin' or not?"

"Well, I'm just thinkin',"

"About?"

"We burned a lot of daylight on this. We won't get back while the sun's still up." He pointed out.

Berwald frowned. "So? Are you saying they won't open the doors if it's dark?"

He shook his head. "The only rule is that they aren't to open the doors if there are live creatures outside the walls. If we go roaring home, I'm betting we'll draw at least a few remainders out. Worst case scenario, we would draw a lot of them out."

"And then we get stuck outside the walls and are left as a midnight snack." Berwald hissed. "At least they'd be able to pick the water off what's left of our corpses in the morning."

"I don't condone suicide missions." Mathias said sternly.

"So, then what's your idea?"

"I think we should hole up here, and head out tomorrow morning."

A cold pit sunk low in Berwald's stomach. Hadn't he just told a story about how he had lost his last friend to that exact same plan?

"But you said-"

Mathias looked mournfully at him and walked closer. "I don't have any better ideas. They won't open those doors for us, and the extra opening was sealed off after what happened. We don't be able to get in. There's no way to build a defensible position out there. But up here, we can barricade something like this for the night and head out in the morning."

Berwald shifted on his feet. He didn't feel anything odd coming off Mathias. If he was trying to get him killed, he would have had plenty of opportunities to shoot him in the back of the head by now.

Still, he had a point. If they weren't going to open the doors after nightfall, they would need another plan.

After a moment of staring hard into Mathias' eyes, he ground boot into the dirt and then nodded. "Alright. Let's find a place. Do you want to leave the truck here or move it with us?"

"Let's just leave it for now. I don't want it to be too far, though."

They separated to scout on either side of the spring. The spring itself was too open, so they were looking for something more like a cave. A small area encased in stone, which would help to hide their scent. Then, they would need something to seal it off with.

Berwald looked through the brush, noticing a few flying insects moving as he walked. He caught himself admiring a small beetle that had landed on his arm. It had a shiny, bright red shell. It was the first time he had seen anything so vibrant out in the wastelands. He held out his fingers and let it crawl across his knuckles, admiring its glossy color. Something about that was almost enough to lift his spirit. The thought that, even out here, an ecosystem was beginning to rebuild itself.

As it opened its wings and flew off, however, it also put a pain through his heart.

The ecosystem was rebuilding itself, but had that small beetle been under his foot, he would have crushed it without noticing. Perhaps the earth was rebuilding itself, but only where it was safe from the touch of mankind. He could have killed a part of this small cycle without even knowing it, and the pain of feeling once again like humanity's time on this plant was over washed over him.

Even Tino had said it once. Maybe he was right.

He held very still, painfully aware of the life around him. Of the dry grasses, of the trailing weeds below them, of the busy insects that hopped between long stalks of grass all around him. How could they be so different from the grasses and the insects?

"I found something!" Mathias called suddenly, far too loudly.

Berwald flinched and then quickly made his way over to where the sound had come from, realizing he had been zoning out in a very dangerously open area. He also had not been helping, and felt embarrassed.

He found the Dane standing a little higher up the rocks, and he was able to see the small, cavernous area he had found before he even reached him.

"Check this out," he said proudly, looking down into the hole.

Berwald bent to look into it. It went down further that he had thought. That would be good to cover their scents, and the entrance was small enough to block with some larger rocks.

"Looks good," he nodded his approval, looking behind them. "And this isn't far from the truck,"

"I'd rather not start it again if we don't need to." Mathias agreed.

"Let's find something to seal this with then, before we spend too long up here." He said, looking around for larger rocks to begin stacking.

Mathias began walking away from the entrance. "Well, I found this, too,"

The Swede looked after him, and then saw what he was after. Mathias had found a boulder. He felt his shoulders fall with exhaustion.

Hadn't they been entombed enough already?

"Come help me move this!"

Berwald watched the Dane begin to maneuver the large stone. "How are we going to seal ourselves inside a hole with that?"

"We'll just push it down, it's not that heavy!"

"Stop yelling," he growled, marching up the hill to meet him. "How are we going to get out?"

"It's not _that_ heavy," he said only a bit quieter.

Berwald frowned but helped him move the boulder towards the entrance. He paused once they were near their hiding place so Mathias could run back to the truck and grab their provisions which they would keep with them until the morning. The Dane returned and settled the items in the tunnel and then braced himself.

"Okay, roll it to me, and I'll hold it while you get inside," Mathias said self-assuredly.

"How good is your grip there?" Berwald could feel the sweat running down his back, the heat of the day finally upon them. "If it's all sand, you're just going to slide and we won't be able to push it off again,"

Mathias scoffed. "I know. I've got a good grip, just push it to me."

Berwald gritted his teeth and did as he was told. He rolled the stone forward towards the slope that led down into the tunnel. There was a terrifying moment when it moved forward to the point where it was no longer within his control and the rough stone scratched across his palms as it slid away. If that rock sealed Mathias in there, it would take a lot of time and effort to get him out, if they were even able to do so.

But, Mathias was there, just as he said he would be, and caught the sudden weight of the heavy stone so that it didn't seal against the entrance.

"I got it! Move!" the Dane barked through the strain, and Berwald immediately moved to the side and slid in to join him.

He released it as soon as Berwald was behind him, and it settled into place, sealing them in the dark, cool cave.

At least this time, they were sealed underground by their own damn hand.


	8. Chapter 8

Mathias coughed a little as some dust was knocked into his face, and then turned to examine their shelter.

"Well, at least it's cooler," Mathias smiled in his good-natured manner.

He turned too, but a far more morbid feeling gripped the Swede's heart then.

The dark stone they were surrounded by gave Berwald a horrible sense of claustrophobia, and the terrifying feeling that he couldn't breathe froze him in place. He immediately closed his eyes and settled his hand over his mouth and nose, not choking himself, but creating just enough resistance so that it was easier to feel his breathing. It was a trick he had learned long ago to cope with being underground or in small areas, and he had used it often when he had to find a place to rest. He often sought out these kinds of areas, but he didn't make a habit of sealing himself in, and having someone else with him made the space feel infinitely smaller. Especially with someone like Mathias.

He began to count his breaths as they passed between his fingers. He counted down from ten a few times before the breathing became easier, and the crushing grip around his heart and lungs began to release. He could breathe; he was alright.

The Dane must have realized because he fell thankfully silent and moved about as far away from him as possible, which meant he was half curled up at the bottom of the rocky inlet with their supplies. When Berwald removed his hand and opened his eyes, the Dane gingerly offered him their canteen.

He took a long drink and sighed. The fear had passed; he was alright. He nodded to Mathias and handed the water back.

"We can wait until morning, and head out as soon as the sun's up. We'll have plenty of time to get back then." Mathias said confidently, resting his forearm on his knee.

He looked absolutely, unnervingly casual. As though they weren't really entombed underground, miles away from the others, preparing to try to survive the night.

Berwald nodded and looked down, shifting until he was comfortable against the cool stones. He tried to rest his eyes for a little while, but ended up slumped down against the wall just talking with Mathias in soft, low tones.

Mathias talked him out of his head with effortless ease, and very quickly they were laughing quietly. They talked about happier things like how Mathias and Ivan got the greenhouse started. He told him about how they had built it out of any kind of plastics they could find, improving them slowly as they could. Mathias also told him about how Ivan insisted growing large sunflowers because they could remove the radiation from the soil.

Radiation poisoning was something Berwald had tried not to think about, but it was encouraging to see that it wasn't totally out of their control.

They talked mostly about the people of the complex, but when he mentioned Tino in one of his stories, then he fell silent and the mood dropped once more. Berwald felt a sharp pain in his chest, but it honestly made his heart feel harder, if anything. That finally gave him the guts to ask the question that had bothered him since he arrived.

"Mat," he addressed him, able to hear the change in his own tone. "I want to ask you, about Tino. And Lukas."

He didn't miss the way the Dane's knuckles turned white, but he grunted to indicate that he was listening. He was staring a little too intensely at his boots, though.

Berwald realized he hadn't exactly prepared the question, but it was too late to back out of the opportunity now. "Well, just….what the hell?"

Mathias' brows furrowed and his head snapped up. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What was going on between you three?" Berwald demanded to know.

He had his own opinion of Lukas, and he supposed whatever he had or hadn't felt for the Finn didn't matter now, but if Mathias thought he was going to come join some sort of deranged harem, he had another thing coming. He kept insisting that he stay, but Berwald needed to know exactly what came with that.

Mathias was silent.

Berwald frowned harder. That damn fool jabbered on nonstop, but now he was at a loss for words? He was just avoiding answering him.

"I…" He started and stopped a few times, changing his phrasing, and then bowing his head. "I love them. Loved them both. I don't know what you want to hear, but that's the truth."

Berwald felt something twist strangely within him, and spoke lowly. "I don't want to hear anything. I just wanted to know what was going on between you and them."

"So, you're saying that you're a one-man kind of guy?" There was a bitter venom to his mocking tone.

He had put the Dane on the defensive.

The Swede frowned. "Well, you're obviously not."

He snorted and lifted his chin. "I don't think old traditions have a place in the world anymore. The world ended, and so I'm going to do as I damn well please and I'm going to fall in love if I choose. And I _do_ love Lukas, just as I loved Tino."

"And, you wanted to fuck me, so you did that, too," Berwald was not in the mood for this self-righteous speech. "And damn the consequences."

Mathias frowned, their eyes finally meeting. They had been passive-aggressively dodging eye contact in order to keep the tensions to a minimum while engaging this tender topic, but now the air became tight with the force of their confrontation.

"I didn't force you into anything," Mathias said sharply, his eyes unwavering.

"You also didn't tell me anything." He fired right back.

The man sitting only a few feet away from him let out a heavy, irritated breath and ran his hand through his messy hair. "Fine. What would you have wanted me to tell you?"

"That you were involved with someone!" Berwald knew Mathias was aware of his discomfort, and he didn't appreciate him playing around it as if he didn't. "Some…people."

"And if I had, then you wouldn't have had anything to do with me? Well I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not. I love who I love, and I'm not going to apologize for any of it. And yeah, I liked you, and I wanted you to stay because I wanted to get to know you. But I am who I am and I don't care of that's too _unconventional_ for your tastes."

When he fell silent, Berwald's eyes were wide. Even in their small space, that windstorm had managed to blow through and he was left with his ears ringing. Somehow, after all that, he felt like everything that had happened was wrong. He had to physically bite his cheek to keep himself from stuttering a half-thought out response.

They were quite for a bit; the weight of what Mathias had said sinking in.

 _Liked._ Somehow, after everything - after all the death and insanity they had gone through - that was the word that kept ringing through his mind. Mathias _had liked_ him.

He was a crazy son of a bitch, and there was still a lot that had happened that Berwald blamed him for, but he had captivated him. There was no denying that, not even to himself. He had liked him back.

And, their night together was something that Berwald had privately thought back on any moment where there was even a second of peace. He often thought on it just as he felt asleep and just as he awoke. It was the most human he had felt in years, but, he supposed that it had continued afterwards. Mathias drew out his emotions, all of them. He was bringing him back to his humanity, after he had spent so many years walking away from it.

And god, it _hurt_.

The longer he thought, and the more those words of past tense rang through his mind, the more he wished he had never come. He wished he had never met the damned Dane, or any of them. He wished he had passed just five miles to the left or to the right, where they wouldn't have seen each other, and he would have continued on without interruption.

Anything to not have this confusing pain crushing his chest.

Berwald felt something move against his cheek, and when he reached up to scratch the skin there, he was surprised to find that it was wet. He immediately lifted his arm to cover his face, hoping to hide such an embarrassing state from the one he was contesting with, but somehow the simple thought that he was crying spurred it on. He chewed his lips to suppress it, but the sobs broke through.

He was just too tired to keep it all back.

He pressed himself into the stone that made up the wall and floor of their small area, burying his face in the crook of his arm, hoping that somehow Mathias would be so mad that he wouldn't notice. His frail hopes were quickly dashed when he felt sudden contact, and even though he thrashed against it, he felt his body pulled from the cold stone into the Dane's warm chest.

"Ber, it's okay," he said softly, trying to shift him onto his lap as the Swede struggled to regain his balance and pull away without revealing his face. "It's okay."

He gripped Mathias' bicep with a claw-like hand and held on for his life. He didn't know what was happening, but it felt like something within him was trying to die. It was tearing him apart.

The Dane held him against his will until it became so that he was clinging to him, sobbing into his firm chest without even understanding what was behind it. Maybe exhaustion. Maybe what Mathias had said had just broken what was left of his heart.

 _Had liked…_

They had tried to kill each other.

They had fought to protect each other.

They had suffered together.

And now, he felt like he was losing him. Even if he had never actually had him to begin with.

Berwald thought that perhaps he shouldn't go back with him. Maybe it would be best that in the morning he would watch Mathias get in the truck and drive away, and he would go on across the mountains alone. Maybe he would just stay in this hole and die, as awful as he felt.

"Ber, it's gonna okay," Mathias was repeating over and over, rocking them slightly to try to soothe him.

His voice was so soft, as though he really cared if Berwald was in pain or not. He didn't know what Mathias believed, but he was soothed against his will. He began to take deeper breaths, but his chest felt like is was about to cave in each time.

He had been so lonely…he didn't want to go back to that. He gripped tighter to Mathias.

"I'm right here," he told him softly. "I'm not going anywhere."

Only then did he realize he was absolutely crushing Mathias' arm.

He didn't want to let go, but forced himself to as he began to regain some semblance of control over himself.

"I'm…I'm sorry," he mumbled under his breath, pulling back.

Mathias allowed him to move, but not to draw away fully. In their tight quarters, Mathias caught his forearm to still him, and then his hand slid down to tangle their fingers together.

"Listen. I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't mean for anything to go down the way it did. I just wanted ya to stick around for a little while, so you could see what we were about. And, so we could get to know each other." He leaned in and daringly brushed his nose against Berwald's cheek. "I understand if you hate me now, but I want you to know that I don't hate you."

A soothing warmth crept into his shaken core at the contact.

"I should'a told you about everything that night, about Luke and Tino, and about how I'm not really…about how I'm not right all the time. I just wanted you to give me a chance," he tipped his forehead forward until they were touching, their noses almost touching. "I like you,"

Berwald closed his eyes, able to feel the Dane's breath.

His words felt like ointment upon an open wound. It still stung, but he definitely felt better hearing Mathias say that he stilled liked him. The immense relief that washed over him at the admission that the Dane didn't hate him was too strong to pretend that it was anything else. He liked Mathias, he admitted that.

He didn't have a choice.

And, he didn't want to be on his own anymore.

Not because he missed society; no, the killing and scheming and betrayal was all still in line with the reason he walked away from it all years ago. He didn't want to be without Mathias. He just didn't know how to say that.

"Mat," his throat closed on him, not that he had thought of any way to phrase anything, but he realized that he was again holding the Dane in an iron grip.

He released his hand, feeling Mathias smile humorously as he flexed his fingers to regain circulation.

"Sorry," he said again.

The Dane let out an amused breath through his nose and smiled wider. "Does that mean, you like me back?"

"Yeah," he said and then butted their foreheads together softly. "Ya crazy bastard."

"I knew it," he smiled and tilted to steal a kiss. "You big softie."

Berwald scoffed quietly, but only allowed a few quick pecks before he leaned for a more emotional kiss.

As quickly as Mathias had drawn wounds into his heart, he was healing them. There was much that was still sitting unresolved by his standards, but the waves of relief that were washing over him were overwhelming. He had been preparing to never seen Mathias again after their fight; he had known from the beginning that Mathias had only prevented his death at Vash and Elizabeta's hands because he liked him. If he fell out of that favor, he doubted whether he would be welcome at this point.

But, he cared less about that then whether or not he would see Mathias again. It almost felt like there was color in the world when he was with him. Sometimes it was a painful color, sometimes the bright red he saw was blood of those he'd come to care about, but he was starting to feel it was better than the bleak colors he had been surrounded by for so long while he was on his own.

He kissed the man beneath him deeper, cupping his face and pressing his back against the stone.

"Oh," the Dane had the nerve to interrupt the kiss to grin up at him. "Is this the makeup sex, then?"

"Shut up," he told him, but smiled in amusement as he captured his talkative lover's lips again.

There was the sound of tough cloth scraping on hard stone as they wrestled to get comfortable while Berwald tried to pin him on his back, and while the Dane playfully struggled to lie on his side to hook a leg around the Swede's hips.

He kissed him deeply, feeling as though a floodgate had been torn forcibly open within himself. All the fear, anger, guilt, and blame washed together, but by far the strongest force that surged forth was passion. Mathias had rekindled these feelings within him, and now he once again felt hot blood running in his veins. He once again felt _human_.

Mathias happily obliged him, pulling him closer and grinding their hips together playfully as he stroked Berwald's cheek. Shifting constantly, just so they could be pressed as closely together as possible. Because he liked him.

They were idiots. Absolute morons

They were fools in love.

Berwald didn't know what that mean. He didn't know a lot of things. But he knew that here, in this shitty excuse for a foxhole, it felt pretty damn good to tangle up with Mathias. And after everything they had been through, that was enough to decide that everything else outside could wait.

"You're getting pretty scruffy, old man." Mathias teased him, touching his beard before letting his fingers trail up into his hair.

Berwald closed his eyes, enjoying the touch but tried to keep Mathias' lips occupied. "You're one to talk."

He couldn't talk if they were lip-locked, and so Berwald figured that fooling around like this would probably help their chances of survival.

Their clothing scrapped against the solid rock again as Berwald shifted to lean on his side and Mathias held his neck while they kissed, his other hand trailing further southward. The Swede's breathing hitched, and he absently wondered if he could persuade his partner to suck him off. They probably wouldn't be able to make love here, but there was still a lot two men could get up to in a small, private space.

Mathias teased him, but his manner of kissing changed. He seemed more reserved, as though he were expecting Berwald to do something. He didn't know what that was, but seeing as Mathias wasn't going to progress without something from him, he grasped Mathias' body and pulled it firmly against him. The Dane hooked a leg around him again, so Berwald took the opportunity to hold him tightly and thrust against him.

Mathias groaned into the kiss as they rubbed against each other with growing desperation, his hand coming to tangle in his hair. It was just so easy with him, it was like their bodies just fit together.

It made it hard to think about anything else.

Berwald left the Dane's lips and began kissing his neck, enjoying his smell before biting him in a fit of passion.

He let out a loud moan and Berwald quickly released him.

"Shh," he hissed.

"Hm," The Dane whined and then whispered breathlessly into his ear. "Do it again,"

Berwald's eyes rolled back, both in pleasure an in irritation as Mathias proceeded to lick and suck on the shell of his ear, sending bolts of hot electricity through his body.

"Keep quiet," he commanded, but after a moment gave in, and bit hard into the tender junction of Mathias' neck and shoulder.

He writhed beneath him, struggling to suppress any noise. His breathing increased, and Berwald enjoyed his suffering, so he continued to lavish the area with attention, sucking and licking and biting as he went. He knew it would leave marks, but it was hard to care about the implications of anything like that when Mathias' hips were thrusting against him so eagerly.

He moved up his neck, to just right behind his ear, teasing it with his tongue. Mathias whined, tilting his head to give him better access, his hands slipping under his shirt to claw at his back. Berwald just smiled and breathed a soft breath of amusement across the tender area before biting him again mercilessly.

"A-aha!" Mathias cried loudly, arching sharply against him.

Berwald shifted to clamp a hand over his mouth, growling. "I said, be _quite_!"

But his eyes were glazed over; he certainly didn't look like he was listening to him. It made Berwald feel hot all over. Hot with annoyance and frustration and _desire_. Damn it all, Mathias was going to be the death of him, sooner or later.

And it just might be worth it.

He moved his hand and kissed him deeply, biting his lips as punishment for frying his every last nerve. At least this way he could stifle his noises. Instead of protesting, however, he offered himself up to the Swede, relaxing into his tight grip. Those supple lips were too much to resist, so he accepted the temptation with fervor. Their tongues twisted together and Berwald nipped at his lips, kissing messily until they finally parted just to breathe.

"Ber, if you don't fuck me right now," he panted, grinding harder against him.

Blood rushed to his head and he closed his eyes. "But, we-"

Mathias immediately began trying to persuade him by licking his ear, obviously able to feel the way it made Berwald shutter. His mind became hazy and he groaned softly, but that still wasn't enough to fully banish his concern for their safety. He had been out here too long for _that_.

But, he was still mostly persuaded, so he began fumbling with Mathias' belt.

The Dane purred excitedly, moving to kiss his neck and jaw and making it increasingly difficult to focus. But he was eventually able to get into his pants and grasped his prize. Mathias gasped as Berwald began to stroke him, turning to recapture his lips to swallow the inevitable noises in an attempt to keep him quiet.

He didn't really know what was morally right or wrong in this new world, not anymore. But he could feel deep in his bones that this was right. Being with Mathias completed him, made him whole in a way he had never known before. He didn't know what that meant for them, all he knew was that even just the threat of being without him was enough to break his heart. Being together was the closest he had ever come to heaven in this word which had so quickly gone to hell.

"Ber, please," he panted breathlessly against his lips.

He felt the Dane's fingers moving to his belt and pants, deftly slipping them undone and pushing them out of the way much faster than the Swede could have done even by himself. His breath froze in his lungs when he felt those warm fingers grip him tightly. He only let Mathias continue for a moment before he pushed his hand away, however.

"I want you," Mathias told him, his voice a needy whisper.

Berwald simply tugged him closer until he was able to grip both of them together. Mathias immediately groaned so he bit his lips again with a low growl. They were supposed to be being as silent as possible, but the small cave was now filled with heavy breathing and soft grunting as he stroked them off together.

It was the best he could do to satisfy both their need to remain hidden, and their need to make love.

Mathias wasn't complaining. His tongue explored Berwald's mouth as his hands raked through his hair, mewling and thrusting and enjoying him thoroughly. Berwald sighed into the kisses and touches, feeling that hot fire deep in his belly being stirred each time Mathias thrust against him, creating more burning friction.

Maybe all the bullshit he was forced to go through with the Dane was worth it.

"God, Ber, _yes_ ," he chanted over and over again any time the Swede let his lips free.

Everything the Dane did drove him crazy. He didn't want this to end, and so he frequently changed the pace and rhythm of his strokes. Bringing them both to the edge, only to deny them any release. Mathias' kisses became more desperate and his breaths became more labored.

He looked so beautiful like this. Even though illuminated with faint light, it was still more to see by than the last time they had been intimate. Mathias' eyes were half-lidded, but were so focused on him that it made him feel like nothing else existed. His cheeks were flushed and his supple lips were reddened from the constant attention. His lithe body squirmed in frustrated pleasure, adding a constant rocking to the friction between them.

"Mat,"

Berwald didn't know how to tell him how beautiful he was, or what he had done to him. He didn't know how to tell him that he had dragged his soul back into his body, kicking and screaming, and made him whole again. He didn't know how to tell him that to lose him would be to lose the sun and be plunged back into darkness all over again.

He just wasn't that eloquent.

His thoughts fueled his actions, however, and he began to stroke them off together in earnest, seeking release and his lover's mouth.

Mathias gasped sharply, and he took the opportunity to seize control of his mouth, savoring his sweet taste has the momentum began to build. He felt the Dane's hands questing for purchase somewhere on his body, causing him to shutter with pleasure. They settled on his shoulder and the nap of his neck, holding them close together.

He could tell by his grip how close he was and groaned weakly into the kiss. It only took a few more strokes before he came undone, and felt a potent orgasm destroy any lingering thoughts he had left. All he could do was feel, and he felt Mathias kiss him through the waves of his bliss, as well as the hot release that dripped down his knuckles.

"Mat," he breathed, completely sapped of his strength.

They breathed, lips brushing softly, descending from their high together.

"I love you," he whispered back softly.

That was enough to get him to open his eyes in earnest.

"Maybe it's stupid to say that," he continued, Mathias' eyes still shut and his expression as calm as though he were sleeping. "But I do."

Berwald scoffed and settled back down, closing his eyes again. "Well in that case…"

When he trailed off, he felt Mathias look up at him. He could feel him waiting for his response.

"…Get something to clean this mess up," he looked away, unable to say anything else.

The Dane laughed charmingly, not appearing disappointed, but was able to find a scrap piece of cloth to mop up the mess they had made. He then wrapped it and put it back in the bag to help hide the scent. They still had a while left to wait, after all.

Once that was accomplished, Mathias dug out a blanket from his pack and laid it out for them to rest on. Berwald was happy to have something softer than the stone to lie on, and within a few moments he began to feel exhaustion catching up with him. As his eyes began to close heavily, he felt Mathias shift to lie beside him.

He drew a breath like he was going to say something, but instead Berwald felt him simply press a kiss to his relaxed lips. It made him smile.

He didn't know if he would say he loved Mathias, there was too much that he considered unresolved about what had happened between them, but for just right now, he was content. His mind and body felt impossibly calm and so he allowed the man beside him to continue to cover his face with sweet kisses.

"Mat?" he mumbled.

"Yeah?"

"I like you." He told him solidly, as though it was a conclusion that he had reached that answered all of their problems.

Mathias laughed softly and kissed him once more. "Good. Or else this would be really awkward tomorrow."

He smiled again and sighed as he began to drift.

He wasn't worried right now; he would deal with whatever came next when it happened just as he always had. And maybe, this time, he would have someone there with him to help.

It would be alright.

* * *

He awoke some hours later, and Mathias took his turn to sleep.

The world around them was impossibly quiet, reminding Berwald how easy it was to feel like they were the only ones out here. The sun was setting, as far as he could tell, so Mathias would at least have most of the night to sleep.

He needed it. One problem they always faced out here was that it was almost impossible to get enough sleep. And for someone who wasn't entirely mentally stable, that could easily spell trouble.

So, Berwald was quiet while his companion rested. He occupied his mind with rambling thoughts until they became too morbid and then he would switch to another. He was contemplating their greenhouse setup again when he heard something move outside.

Had there been any noise louder than their nearly-silent breathing, he wouldn't have heard it. But his ears pricked up when he heard the rustle of the dry grass beyond the sealed mouth of the tunnel and every muscle in his body went on high-alert.

His ears strained, listening for anything that followed that. It could have been an animal as small as a mouse, anything just large enough to disturb the stiff grasses, but he couldn't envision anything other than those creatures tracking their scent from the truck over to the entrance.

How well could they dig?

Berwald gripped his gun, having to maneuver it carefully in the small tunnel. He wouldn't wake Mathias unless he was sure they were in trouble, or if he started snoring. So, he held the weapon close to his chest and waited.

The harder he listened, the louder his ears felt like they were ringing.

Nothing.

After several long minutes, his shoulders slowly began to relax. Perhaps it had been some sort of small creature passing by.

He sighed and let his head rest against the stone. This feeling was familiar; the anxiety of hiding in the night. The only blessing was that the area was sealed pretty well and that it wasn't so bitterly cold. The stone underground was actually proving to be more comfortable than sleeping on the surface at night.

Mathias let out a soft, innocent breath and his eyes softened as they rested on him.

Mathias had said he loved him, but he the crazy Dane seemed to be a far more fluid and freer with his emotions than Berwald. He didn't know what would happen when they got back, but the best he could figure was that he would just carry on like he always had; making decisions as they were presented to him one at a time. There was no way to plan anything in a world like this.

At least they had found a good source of water, so this whole trip hadn't been in vain. The next question would be what to do from here. A pipe just seemed like too massive of a task, but he supposed it wasn't up to him.

He wouldn't be the first one to volunteer to work on it though, that was for damn sure.

There was another rustle outside and his head snapped up.

That sounded too large to be a mouse.

A human tracker would be able to tell from the marks in the dirt where they had gone, but the creatures only seemed to be able to locate by using their scenes. If they couldn't smell them or hear them, he doubted whether they would stay to investigate long.

But their truck might have smelled enough to attract them, and that might be enough to put them on their path. He didn't know how well they could smell them hiding underground like this. Even if they did try to dig, the stone around them appeared to be more rock than dirt, so he didn't know how far they could get.

There was nothing to do but wait.

They would wait until sunrise, when the creatures seemed to have a disadvantage, and then if they were still out there, one of them could push open the entrance while the other covered. That was the best plan he could come up with for now.

There was no further noise, but he settled in to wait out the darkness with his rifle held close. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

In the morning, as soon as dawn broke, Berwald awoke Mathias. He held his finger to his mouth, indicating for the Dane to remain silent. Though he hadn't heard any noises for several hours, that didn't mean they were alone.

Mathias smiled sleepily at him at first, but then seemed to see the seriousness in his actions and a sober expression took over his face. He nodded firmly and moved silently to get ready. They gathered their things and readied their weapons, then they moved close to the entrance and waited.

They listened. Nothing.

"I haven't heard anything for a few hours," Berwald breathed as quietly as he could, but it still felt much too loud.

Mathias just nodded and looked sternly at the boulder.

They waited a little longer, and then he slung his rifle over his shoulder, indicating he would push it open and Berwald would wait behind him to fire on anything that tried to attack them. He nodded when Mathias looked at him, and they assumed their positions.

The Dane braced himself against the stone and counted very quietly to three before giving a violent shove.

The boulder moved forward, allowing a rush of cool morning air into their tunnel. Dirt fell from where it was disturbed, creating a blurring curtain that caused Berwald's eyes to move wildly from each side, trying to see what was beyond.

Nothing else moved.

No creatures were there to attack them, so Berwald hooked his gun over his shoulder and helped Mathias quickly shove the rock forward the rest of the way. They both retrieved their guns as they stepped out, standing back to back as they looked around for any sign of movement or danger.

The sky was a soft, pale yellow. A rare moment of beauty before the sun would climb up into the polluted sky and the world around them would turn a muted grey color. The soft sand and dirt that formed the landscape around them was still held in the night's chill and ghostly frost crested the grasses around them. The world looked beautifully alien from the harsh, dry desert they had seen before.

Nothing else moved. Nothing charged them and nothing scattered.

Berwald looked down, trying to see if there had been any tracks left in the dirt from what he had heard. He didn't see anything obvious, however, and didn't want to waste much time looking.

"Okay, let's get out of here." Mathias nodded to him and they headed back down towards the truck.

The sun wasn't quite over the horizon yet, so the truck was still bitterly cold to the touch. The land was beginning to illuminate, however, and they were able to see that one of the water containers had been kicked off the truck onto the ground.

They both exchanged a look, and Mathias covered him while Berwald retrieved the item. It wasn't damaged or punctured, so he simply hoisted it back up and secured it onto the truck again. He didn't notice any tracks here, either, but the way it was positioned, the water container couldn't have fallen on its own.

Despite the cold, that was what gave him chills.

Mathias got in the driver's side and Berwald hopped in beside him, aiming as Mathias started the engine. It stalled for a terrifying moment before it turned over, and then they immediately turned around and headed back down the way they had come. Something was still bothering him, so he continued to keep an eye out, watching for anything that might be waiting until they were lower to get the drop on them from above.

He was at least half-right.

With a terrible screech, a black shape lurched at them as it had appeared seemingly from nowhere behind their truck. Berwald was so wound that his muscles moved on their own, and when his hands clenched in terror, he automatically pulled the trigger. The mass fell dead behind them, and Mathias jumped and glanced around before giving him a thumbs-up.

He waited, fearing more. Those things never traveled alone, so he swung his barrel to the left and right, constantly glancing in all directions. But, nothing else ever came.

He frowned. That was strange.

They left the rocky area just as the sun began to break the horizon, and Mathias seemed content enough with that.

"We should have enough time to get back now," he nodded self-assuredly.

Berwald moved off his knee to sit properly in the passenger seat. "I hope so."

"At least the well seems like it's still good," Mathias said, appearing to be in an optimistic mood.

"Yeah," he agreed, looking around as they entered the flat, desert landscape. "Do you really think trying to build something this far out is a good idea?"

Mathias shook his head. "I don't know. But I don't like the idea of sending people like this so often. But that was just one idea. We'll talk about it some more once we're back. That's the benefit of more people: more ideas."

"I hope so." Berwald said again, less convinced.

But there was something else awaiting them back at the complex that had nothing to do with water supplies. Something neither of them would have expected.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Happy New Year! Here's two more chapters for this AU as part of a resolution to finish some of my stories! As always, I hope you're enjoying it and I'd love to hear any thoughts on the story so far~!


	9. Chapter 9

" _This is a message from the United Nations Refugee Security Council to any and all survivors. Please respond, if possible. This message is being broadcast on May 12th, 2043. Please respond, if possible. If unable to respond, please utilize the following information to proceed to the secure location…_ "

The message then proceeded to provide various coordinates and directions, before it began to repeat and the short man who oversaw the control center turned the message off. The room fell oppressively silent.

The floor swayed beneath him and Berwald had to grab one of the consoles as to not fall over.

The year was 2043. He had told Tino he thought he had been walking for six or seven years, maybe a decade. But this meant that meant he was over forty years old. His head was swimming. The wars started more than twenty years ago…he had been walking alone for nearly twenty years.

"South?" Mathias asked, his voice cutting through the silence.

He sounded like he was expecting trouble.

Berwald looked over to him and his heart felt cold in his chest. The Dane's face was stony and guarded, his eyes intensely focused on the man he was speaking to. He was asking him to translate the coordinates. Berwald knew that he had come from a southern settlement; perhaps he was fearing that this was them.

"Yes sir," the man said in a weak, feeble voice.

Most of the people in the complex were trying to cram around the area, standing outside and listening to the broadcast. They were all waiting to see what Mathias would say.

"Have you sent anything back?" the question was heavy and deadly serious.

"N-No. No sir."

Mathias looked around slowly, taking the time to meet the eyes of those who stood around him. Lukas had his arms folded; he looked just as guarded. The welder looked more hopeful, his eyes were wide, and he was listening intensely. When Mathias' eyes reached his, he just looked back at him tiredly.

He didn't know. He didn't have any goddamned answers. Maybe it was a trap, maybe it wasn't. Either way, they didn't have a great source of water, but they did have a good source of protection. He wouldn't be the one to advise anyone to leave. Or to stay.

"Let's all sit down and discuss our options,"

Apparently, he didn't know either.

The remaining survivors filled the bar area and all eyes fell on Mathias. He looked his age; his brow was lowered, and his eyes were dark. His mouth was set in a stern grimace and he continuously rubbed his lips and scratched his chin. Lukas stood behind the bar with Emil, and Berwald sat in the back corner.

From what he could tell based on the conversation thus far, the room was divided into two groups: those who wanted to stay and fortify, and those who wanted to abandon the complex and head towards the provided coordinates.

Their argument was obvious: they needed a steady, secure supply of water.

"What are our options?" Mathias asked the room.

"Even if we try to start pumping out the wells, it's nothing but a waste of time and energy. There's no way to tell how long it'll take if it can even be done. Besides, we don't have a good way to test it." A man hardly younger than Berwald sat on a bar stool with his arms folded. "It can take decades to fully decontaminate a water source."

"That's not true," a voice cut through the room, and everyone turned to the old woman with white hair.

She was the doctor who had manufactured the cure. The one who had come with Mathias from their last settlement.

"We can test for contamination in the water. I could tell if pumping and waiting is enough to restore the wells." Her eyes were cold and hard-set, but she spoke with logical hope.

"How long would you need?" Mathias asked, sounding interested.

"We could perform daily measurements for the next several weeks. If we don't see improvement in that time, then I would be more inclined to agree with Mr. Vargas." The doctor nodded back towards the younger man, whose mouth was set in a scowl.

Mathias hummed quietly, frowning at his boots, before he nodded and lifted his head. "Alright. What else?"

"We would have to keep sending people out every two or three days while we work on the wells," said the welder. "Unless we put our efforts into digging a new well or building an aqueduct from an outside source."

"That's an even bigger waste of time. We don't have the tools to dig or to build, and there aren't any water sources close enough." Mr. Vargas spoke up again.

"All you need to dig a well is a shovel." Another voice cut in. "We know there's groundwater here. We could dig for it and then test it."

Berwald then realized that there were two men standing side by side who looked almost identical. Twin brothers. They were so similar in the way they looked and dressed that Berwald thought he might have never noticed there were two of them if they hadn't been standing side by side. They didn't appear to agree on the correct course of action, however, and were both frowning at each other.

"We could also respond to the broadcast," a meek voice interrupted the discussion and the room fell silent.

Berwald didn't miss the way Mathias' jaw tightened.

"If we can't secure a water source," Ivan agreed, his voice serious and low. "We should consider it."

"But we don't know who they are, it could be a trap. It could be more gangs," An elderly Vietnamese man spoke up, his eyes hard even though a scar over one appeared to have left him mostly blinded. "They could be searching for people who have supplies."

The room fell silent.

He was right; there was no way to know if the people broadcasting would be hostile to them. There was no way to verify that they were who they said they were. But then again, things had been this way for years now. All of them had only survived this far because they had learned to trust the right people.

Or at least, to avoid trusting the wrong people.

"We could send someone out to the coordinates." Lukas spoke, his voice soft in the cold, hard atmosphere of the room. "If they get there, and everything is okay, they can radio back to us. If not…then at least we'll know."

A potential suicide mission. Mathias wasn't going to like that.

Berwald's eyes shifted to the Dane fast enough to see that twitch, and he spun around so fast a few people moved in surprise. Lukas, however, flinched violently. The entire room saw the smaller man cringe, and it took the momentum out of Mathias' voice.

Lukas' bruises still weren't entirely healed, after all.

"You're saying that we should just…sacrifice someone?" he asked in disbelief.

Berwald folded his arms across his chest, ready for when the Norwegian's eyes inevitably turned to him. Those eyes were pleading but stern. It was really the only logical course of action regarding the broadcast, and they all knew it.

After everything they had gone through, Berwald was still the stranger. Still the one closest to the outside. It only made sense for him to go.

The logical thing to do.

So, Berwald thought, it was Lukas rather than Mathias who would be the one to see him to his death. He probably should have been more prepared for that. Last time the shorter man had almost shot him in the face.

"I'll go." He spoke up, not enjoying the attention that earned him.

Mathias' voice rose in pitch and he shook his head. "Stop it, both of you. We're not sending anyone."

"Mat," Ivan's rolling voice was inescapable.

The giant of a man stepped forward, that dented metal pipe scraping on the ground as he continued to lean on it. The old Russian's eyes met Mathias' as the shorter man looked up at him unwillingly. They were not gentle.

"He is willing. We cannot ignore the possibility of allies."

"But," The Dane said, his voice cracking and sounding weak and pitiful as he turned to look around the room for any hint of support.

There was none to be found. Just stony faces and empty seats.

"Mathias, we can risk the life of one, or the lives of all. Even if we can secure a well, we will eventually need more supplies. We aren't entirely sufficient yet, and if there are others out there like us, we need to know." The doctor supported Ivan and Mathias' resolve broke.

Because it didn't matter what ideas he had founded this settlement on. Because no matter how _hard_ Mathias fought against their situation, the evils of necessity would always prevail. Sacrifice could never be avoided.

Suddenly, the tall man standing in the center of the room looked so small and defeated.

Berwald's heart felt heavier in his chest than it ever had before. He felt as though he was betraying Mathias. He knew what he had gone through better than almost anyone here, even though he had only been with him for a short time. He knew why this all meant so much to him, and why it was driving him so insane.

When they looked at each other, he saw pain.

If Mathias had felt any stronger, he was certain that pain would have turned to anger, and he would have yelled, or maybe tried to break his nose. But he looked weak and tired. Defeated. And somehow, that turned his expression far more bitter.

He turned away from him and left the room, slamming the door hard behind him.

No one spoke for a long time.

What was there to say?

* * *

Berwald was given provisions and a radio. He had a rough map directing him to the coordinates provided as best as they could figure and was given a motorcycle. They expected that the trip would be a few days there at the least, but no one really knew for sure because while they had the directions, they didn't honestly know where they were.

He didn't even know what country they were technically in.

Mathias was nowhere to be seen. Lukas occasionally appeared but he hardly spoke to him. If they made eye-contact, he would just nod once, as if confirming that he was doing the right thing. Berwald didn't claim to be doing the right thing, just what he thought was best. But he knew he still felt that cold sickness in the pit of his stomach.

Going against Mathias like that, in front of everyone, probably meant he would never speak to him again. Even if he returned with good news, he doubted he'd be able to stay with their community. This town wasn't big enough for the two of them.

For two idiots with broken hearts.

More than anything, Berwald just wanted to say goodbye. After all, the likelihood that he was going to make it there at all was slim. The chance that he would make it back alive was even less likely. He just wanted to tell him he was sorry and that he hoped he survived just so he could see him again.

Maybe it was for the best that he didn't show up, Berwald eventually decided. He wasn't eloquent enough to say all that, anyway. Probably would have just made things worse.

He packed up his bike with his provisions and stood once more before the gate. It was early in the morning, but most of the complex was up and about. Lukas appeared with Emil, and the Norwegian held up his hand. He returned the gesture with a confused feeling in his chest, and then started the engine.

The roar of the machine tore through the silence of the early dawn, and the alarm sounded as they began to open the door. Just as he was able to see out beyond the walls, he saw movement up on the battlements of the walls and identified that wild hairstyle.

Against the dark sky, his clothes were merely a silhouette of his figure, but he could see the pale skin of his face and arms. Mathias was looking down at him, and although he couldn't quite see his expression, he felt a chill run down his spine.

He thought to raise his hand to him too in some sort of goodbye gesture, but the man on the ground by the door was waving him through, and so he simply pulled his scarf up over his mouth and nose and left.

Maybe it was better this way.

Mathias had Lukas, after all. Berwald had just been the stranger in town.

* * *

The motorcycle was faster than the truck they had been driving, and so he covered a lot of ground even after the sun went down. He didn't have very much gasoline left, but he hoped it could at least get him there and partially back. Mostly, he was hoping the radio would work. It was strange to feel like there was a chance that he could still be tethered to the settlement. That if he called out, someone would hear him.

Making so much noise in the darkness was putting him on edge, mostly because it was so easy to get used to. He became practically deaf to the sound before the sun even fell, and that was dangerous. He needed to be alert. He would attract anything within miles of the path he was taking.

He tried to stop only when he had to, but there was hardly any shelter anyway. Berwald did find a road, however, which seemed to rise out of the dirt like a great serpent. It seemed for a while that he was holding still while a great, black snake slithered beneath him. Or perhaps he was just overtired.

It had been a long time since he had seen a road that was so intact. He could still see the paint against the asphalt. Somehow, he couldn't decide if that was comforting. The thought that they had been moving on into this bleak, empty future while remnants of the old world were left behind in silence. He had tried to avoid cities in the beginning; it was too difficult to look at. To smell. But now, sometimes it had been all he wished for. Just to see a lamppost, a building, a car. Something familiar. But it never was. Because the cities were rotting; their faces were broken and crumbling.

As if looking at a corpse that was once a friend…

Berwald shook his head again and tried to banish his dark thoughts. He needed to rest.

He scanned the surrounding area in quick glances, careful to avoid the broken crags of asphalt that could so easily bring his journey to a halt. There was nothing to be seen on either side but flat, burnt, barren land. No place to hide. Nothing to fortify.

He could rest out in the open if he had to, but only as a last resort. It was too dangerous, with no way to ensure that he would awake after a short period. If he fell into a deep sleep out here, he would never wake up again. He would dream forever, and the settlement would be left to wonder.

His exhaustion was reaching critical levels, however, and he decreased his speed, aware that he was swerving when he didn't mean to and that his eyes lingered on blinks. The ground was slowly becoming more uneven around him, and so he slowed until he was able to kill the engine beside the deepest ditch he had seen so far.

He moved off the road quickly, pulling the bike down into the dirt beside him. Once settled, he pressed his back against the loose sediment and listened.

The world around him was silent without the now-familiar roar of his engine. His ears strained, ringing, trying to catch even the slightest noise around him. Any scrape of claw on the asphalt. Any huff of ragged breath. Anything.

Nothing came. As the minutes ticked by, he began to slump further and further down. He was forced to rest in the heat of the day, but even the blazing sun above him, only lightly obscured by a layer of poisonous, gray-green cloud cover couldn't prevent him from dozing off. He rested, curled up with his rifle behind his motorcycle, and dreamed about what he might find when he reached his destination.

There were only two possibilities, after all: either he would find people, or he wouldn't.

He couldn't decide which was more terrifying.

* * *

He awoke when he became aware of the cold metal pressing against his face. He had fallen asleep against the barrel of his rifle, and now that the sun had passed over them, the metal had lost all warmth and was becoming bitterly cold.

He moved slowly, his joints stiffening with the cold wind passing over him. He was listening hard.

No sound other than the wind across the nothingness, but that made it hard not to hallucinate footsteps coming towards him. If he was alone, he would check in with the radio and update them on his progress. But he didn't dare turn the volume on until he was certain there was nothing waiting.

On a deep breath, he peeked over the edge of the deep ditch, looking out across the road. Nothing.

He glanced back and forth, scanning the horizon. He was almost allowed to relax, when he saw a deformed lump in the distance, in the direction he had come. It looked like a rock, but he knew that he had passed no such formation.

Something had followed him.

He swallowed once his throat stopped constricting and began to plan his actions. He would either get up, hoist the bike back onto the road, start the engine and take off. Or, he could try to start the engine from the ditch and ride up onto the road. That would save him precious time; the creature was not far away. He could also try to shoot it. He could aim from the ditch or step up onto the road and fire when it charged him. The only thing holding him back was the noise.

After a moment of staring, he decided he would do his best to shoot it before escaping. He didn't know how long it would pursue him, after all. Best just to kill it and be done.

Berwald clutched his rifle and lifted it over the edge of the ditch, the snout of the gun reaching just over the lip of the asphalt as he aimed. He closed one eye, trying to account for the distance he would have to cover.

The creature was unnervingly still. He had never seen one just sitting there like that. It was facing away from the setting sun, hunched over so that its long arms rested on the ground like a dog. He wondered if it was possibly sleeping. The thought that it was simply sitting, that it still retained some amount of humanity enough that it could appreciate the changing colors of the sky was making his hands tremble. He couldn't believe that. He couldn't believe that these monsters were human any longer.

Because that would make what he had to do next impossible. He let out his breath as he fired, accepting the recoil into his still-injured shoulder with an unintentional grunt. The effect was instantaneous: the creature's head was thrown to the side and it crumbled over.

He waited, the splitting sound echoing across the emptiness. The lump didn't move again.

Berwald slung his rifle over his shoulder and quickly seized the bike, moving up to the road and starting the engine. He fled the scene without looking back. He didn't know why, but somehow what he had done made him sick. He wished he had stepped up onto the road, or that he had at least missed. If he had shot that thing while it was running towards him, nothing but two animals struggling to survive, he would have thought nothing more of it.

He didn't have any goddamned answers, and he didn't claim to. He didn't know what was right and wrong. He did what he had to in order to survive. That's what he had always done.

That's how he'd survived this long.

The sun finally disappeared behind what may have been floating mountains, or a very distant mirage. It left the world around him feeling cold and suddenly very close. His vision adjusted but was inevitably limited as the faint dusky light gave way to inky blackness. As the muscles behind his eyes strained, he was distantly reminded of deep-sea creatures, whose eyes grew bulgier and bulgier as they tried to watch in the darkness for predators. He shuttered and hoped humans would never come to look like that.

It was always easier to get lost in thought in the night. The tiny light on the front of the motorcycle was just enough to see the ground in front of him in time to avoid large holes and rocks, but he knew it would look like a beacon in this emptiness. Light and noise. There was no way he wouldn't attract at least a few creatures. But even that thought couldn't prevent his mind from eventually wandering.

He found his thoughts returning to his radio. Or, more specifically, who he might reach with his radio. He had left a lot of people behind without being able to say goodbye, but this one hurt the most. He doubted Mathias would have even acknowledged him if he had tried, but at least the effort would have been there.

He knew he was too much of a coward to do that. Too proud to approach the Dane and risk the chance that he wouldn't even turn around to look at him. Too willing to break his damn heart himself to offer someone else the chance.

And now he was alone, that radio burning where it rested against his hip.

Trying to think ahead, he began to wonder honestly about what he might find. On the off chance that he really found the source of the broadcasts, he didn't know what he would do. He imagined a building built like a maximum-security prison. A building with layers and layers of barbed wire fences guarding it. Heavy gates with watchtowers and gunmen hidden out of sight. A fortress of stone in the center, impregnable from outside forces, and no other way to learn its secrets but to walk that narrow entrance beneath the imposing towers.

Maybe they would shoot him as soon as they saw him. As soon as he was within range of their sharpest snipers.

But he shook his head at his own daydream. No, they wouldn't mistake a solitary rider for a threat. One man wasn't a gang. One man was a traveler, a refugee. One man might just be interesting enough to risk talking to.

Continuing his fantasy, he then imagined riding right up to the gate. Maybe they would have a loud speaker that would burn his ears. It would ask him what his business was. He would reply that he was seeking shelter. The first gate would open, the first of many trials he would have to complete before he could access the deep recesses of the mysterious building.

People with guns might appear out of the shadows to meet him. Covered head to toe in matching uniforms of black Kevlar, their eyes and mouths obscured. They would want to remove his guns. He would let them, reluctantly. Beggars at the door have little power to refuse the will of the host. He would leave his vehicle behind and surrender his pack, answering anything they asked with as few words as possible.

They wouldn't trust him, he wouldn't trust them; they would proceed once they searched his person for more weapons…

A large crack in the road caught his attention and he had to swerve hard, nearly skidding off the road in order not to hit it head on. It shook him out of his thoughts and he realized how dangerous that had been. He didn't remember anything about what he had passed. It was blank when he tried to remember if he had seen anything that could be used as a landmark.

He needed to stay alert. Those things could come out of nowhere. If he was unprepared, he would die.

It had been easier to keep his mind empty before. When he had gone years without contact. Now, his body was soft, and his mind was cluttered with messy, unresolved thoughts.

So much had happened in such a short time, but he didn't know what any of it meant. He didn't know what he could take away, and what was better left behind. Part of him had been secretly wanting to abandon the mission since the beginning. To throw the radio in the dirt and leave. Go on his own again. Go back to what he knew.

But, part of him wanted to return. Even if he had nothing to return with. Simply because he knew would be welcomed back.

Just the thought that someone was waiting somewhere for him made it easier to drive into the darkness. The weight of the radio became like an anchor to hope, something that had always been too dangerous before now. Not the hope that he would find allies or water or anything out here, but the hope that there was some kind of home waiting back there for him.

That he wouldn't be a wanderer forever.

That maybe Mathias would talk to him again if he hung around long enough. Waited him out. The Dane wasn't the patient type anyway. He wondered what he would say when he got back. If he said anything at all.

 _If_ _he_ _got_ _back_ _at all._

The sky began to lighten long before the sun rose. The land around him stretched as though waking from sleep, and all the suspicious shadows began to recede back beneath the rocks they were attached to. Berwald's tiredness was equally balanced by a cold, sickly churning in his stomach. Anxiety.

It wouldn't be long before he reached his destination. He'd been riding for several days now; the bike was almost out of gas. He hoped he would make it before it went completely dry. The land around him was becoming rocky and slowly growing up around him until he was riding through a carved valley. The road was in even better condition here, aside from a few fallen rocks, and he was able to travel faster. He couldn't help it. The closer he got, the more important it was for him to know.

Who had sent the broadcast? Was there really some semblance of the old governments left? If they were who they said they were, they would be able to leave that blood-soaked settlement. They would be able to go somewhere safe.

Suddenly, all the effort Mathias had been putting into maintaining a society seemed worth it. The thought that they weren't the last damn settlement on Earth. He couldn't imagine what he would say.

The sheer mountain faces on either side of the road began to make him feel claustrophobic. He glanced up from time to time, but the rocky landscape above changed so quickly. It would be impossible to detect an attack from above until it was too late. The fear and the anticipation spurred him on until he was taking the turns a little too sharply and avoiding rocks just a little too dramatically. He almost slid out again, but he couldn't stop. It felt like his heart was going to burst.

He had to know.

Couldn't have cared less before, but he had to know now.

Took the turns too hard. He could hear the tires squeal. But none of it mattered. He just had to get to the end of this goddamned road. Needed to see the source. Somehow, that meant everything now. It would decide his fate. Whatever he found at the end of the horizon.

He killed the engine at a distance. It was out of gas anyway. Berwald stood looking down a slight incline into a bowl-shaped valley. Beneath him lay the remains of some great city. Buildings of stone still stood, sooner to be buried by the shifting sand than to be knocked down. There was nothing to be seen in these empty little shells, but in the center of the town, he saw it. A great building, rising up like a defiant tombstone over the destruction below. If the broadcast had come from this place, that was the building it originated within.

He began down the hill, sliding occasionally under loose rock. He would be obvious in his dark clothes against the pale slopes. If anyone was looking, they would see him. Nothing he could do about that.

Berwald made it to the bottom without being shot at, however, and so he continued to press forward. The small town was unnervingly quiet, but the wind whistled as it was disrupted by the skeletons of houses and shops. Everything was built of stone, and everything that wasn't stone had rotted away. It was like looking at a pile of bones thrown in a heap.

Eerie. Dry. Quiet.

He moved through the buildings, his gun pulled close. There was no direction he could face that didn't leave him open from behind. He tried to listen, watching the rooves and corners for any sign of an ambush. The sun was falling lower, casting contrasting shadows around him, only making it worse to move carefully towards his goal.

Towards that building. The front door.

The metal of the door handles was cold, but it burned to touch. The doors weren't locked. Nothing stopped him from going right in. It felt like he was walking in a dream.

The inside of the building was dark and dusty, but it was warm. He closed the door behind him, able to see by the faint light through a few high windows, and ventured further in. It appeared to have been some kind of factory; the bare steel handrails and utilitarian design lent to a building designed for functionality rather than beauty. There were some overturned desks and filing cabinets lying on shattered remains of electronics, but no sign of inhabitants.

His heart trembled precariously in his chest, and he began up the stairs.

The noise of his heavy boots against the aging metal echoed in the wide, empty room. It vaguely reminded him of a church, a holy sanctuary, but he put the thought out of his mind as best he could. His noisy ascendance ended when he reached another unlocked door and entered a small room.

It resembled the control room at the complex, with various stations and control panels spread across the edges of the room. This room was darker, but he saw the unmistakable flash of red and green against one area of the console.

Electricity. This place was still running.

Berwald's hands were quaking as he slung his gun over his shoulder and moved forward. This room appeared long deserted; he noticed a layer of fine sand and dust covered the floor, devoid of prints. But the blinking lights drew him closer, and he moved with careful steps.

He approached the only area of the room that appeared to be alive and looked down at the station. The rest of the console was cleanly put together, but in this area, the panels had been cracked open and the wires were now jutting out as though it were a plant growing out from within. The wires had been crudely tangled into another device, which was resting on top of the station. It took Berwald a moment before he realized what he was looking at, but then it began again, and he understood.

This old building was serving as a ghost radio tower. The creators of the message had long since died or left this place, but the equipment was – probably unintentionally – made to last. The radio system was broadcasting a set of pre-recorded messages on loop. The power, judging by the wiring that continued up through the ceiling, was likely coming from a solar panel. Perhaps in the past weeks it had finally gathered enough power through the dense pollution to begin transmitting again. There was no way to tell how old any of this was.

He stared at the radio in wonder for a while, simply appreciating the ingenuity that it took to rig this up in the first place, as well as how long it had lasted. Solar power. A set of messages on loop. The trap the creators had unintentionally laid had ensnared his fragile sense of hope and now it sprung, snapping shut so hard that he clutched his chest.

Berwald tried to lean on another console station, but eventually he slid to the ground, covering his mouth in anguish. It was a strange sensation. In his mind, he felt calm. His thoughts flowed normally, but sobs wracked his body until he couldn't breathe, feeling like he wanted to smash everything in the room until his hands were bloody and there was nothing left of the radio rig. His heart ached in his chest.

Hopelessness.

There was no one out here. There were no survivors. He had come all this way for nothing.

Chasing ghosts.

The sun had fallen behind the mountains surrounding the valley by the time he walked back out the front doors. He looked up at the grey sky, its light fading quickly, and grabbed his radio. He turned it on and turned up the volume and took a shaky breath before pressing the button to speak.

He called out for the settlement, using a code he had been given, and then released the button and waited. Soft static crackled from within the large radio in his hands. He called the same message again, louder this time. More static.

Berwald sat on the steps of the largest building as the light faded, calling into the radio over and over again. He changed the volume, the channels, anything he could think of. But there was no reply. Eventually, he dropped it onto the crumbling pavement.

Sitting with his head in his hands, staring at the radio between his feet, he felt like whatever had been holding him up all these years had finally collapsed. That whatever steel he had built up within himself had suddenly turned to dust. He felt hollow and weak as his mind filled with thoughts about what could have happened to the people who created the broadcast, about why the complex wasn't responding…

They wouldn't ignore him. The only answer was that something had happened. He recalled the last time he had seen Mathias and his stomach felt cold.

Everyone had their limits. Mathias, Vash…even himself.

The stone beneath him turned bitterly cold, forcing him to stand. He did not pick up the radio again.

He had spent so long surviving for the sake of survival, but now, he just couldn't seem to justify that to himself. There was no one here; for all he knew, there was no one back there either. And even if there was, it seemed like the tiny light that had symbolized his hope in a future had been extinguished. He was too tired. His body, his heart, wasn't healing like it used to.

Walking through the dark buildings, he wasn't really seeing them; wasn't paying attention to his surroundings. He didn't try to watch his back, and he wasn't listening for anything hiding within their walls. Instead he walked calmly, the calmest he had ever felt in his life, to a clear space away from the rubble.

He looked up at the black sky, devoid of any stars or moonlight. He didn't have any answers; he didn't know if what he had done was right, but it certainly didn't feel like it. He didn't know what anything meant in the grand scheme of things, if it meant anything at all. He didn't know a god or a devil, or if there was an afterlife. All he knew was that his time was done; he had gone far enough, and he just hoped it wouldn't hurt.

Berwald fell to his knees in the sand, lifting an item of similar size as the heavy radio from his belt. He blinked slowly, seeing several faces behind his closed eyelids, and then looked up one last time. His old heart couldn't handle any more pain, anymore hopelessness. He didn't know what awaited him on the other side, but he knew that it was time to find out.

A loud crack split the night, and nothing further followed it.

* * *

 _"Life is eternal; and love is immortal;_

 _and death is only a horizon;_

 _and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight."_

– Rossiter Worthington Raymond

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I don't know what else to say, but thank you for sticking this one out. It ended up being more than I thought it would, but I'm glad I was able to finish it and I hope you enjoyed it. I would love to hear your thoughts and/or criticisms and thank you again for reading.


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